Living, Ever After
by Evil Kittens Unite
Summary: It's 7 years after the war, and Hermione is living her happily ever after. Except for the blackmail. And Ron being a prat. Throw in a Time-Turner, a literal alternate universe, one snarky Severus Snape and life after DH isn't exactly a fairy tale.
1. Chapter 1

**Living, Ever After**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter One <em>

"You _cannot _do this to me," said a disgruntled Hermione Granger; even as the words came out of her mouth, she knew that not only _could_ they do it, but that they most certainly _would. _She took little solace that the man behind the desk looked uncomfortably sheepish.

"Ah, you see, Ms. Granger, this came straight from the Minister himself…"

She arched her eyebrows at him; her favourite '_who do you think you're kidding' _expression. "Well, I guess it is urgent that I speak with the Minister about this unfortunate mix-up."

The man opened his mouth in a likely attempt to explain that it was not a mistake of any kind, but shut it quickly. _Smart man_, she thought, even if the gesture had reminded her strangely of a fish struggling to breathe.

"Ms. Granger, I cannot just let you in to see the Minister. He is a very busy man."

"And I cannot let you transfer me to another department with absolutely no explanation as to why. I am in the middle drafting a revolutionary piece of legislation and this process cannot be interrupted by such silly notions as a transfer," Hermione countered. The man was starting to look increasingly flustered.

"I have no say in this. I was merely told to inform you of the change."

"And now I am informed. I am also left wondering why _you_ are doing the informing when I don't even know your name. Were all of my immediate superiors too busy to handle this delicate matter?"

"Richard Greenly," said the man, "my name is Richard Greenly." His face was now an unattractive red color. "Like I said, I don't usually handle transfers. I'm just an aide."

Hermione gave a feral smile. "Yes, and I apologize. I'm sure you understand that I don't want to be a bother, but this is extremely important." She knew that she had to stay calm, but inside was seething. She felt her fingers twitch for her wand, but she managed to stop herself. She doubted that hexing Mr. Greenly would have a desirable outcome. Waving her wand around menacingly may work on Ron, but would not get her in to see the Minister. Not without being arrested afterwards, anyway.

However, Hermione knew that her smiles had a magic all of their own. There was something about her straight white teeth that made people stop and listen to her. _Or_, she thought wryly, _it may just be the crazy gleam in my eyes_. Mr. Greenly gulped. His eyes flicked to the Minister's door and then back to her face. Hermione knew that he was considering her request, and now she just had to give him a little nudge. She gave an exaggerated sigh, "Oh, Mr. Greenly, it's _just_ awful."

"Yes, yes, I agree. Just awful," he echoed, cowering in his seat.

Hermione tried to ignore that he seemed to be a tab bit frightened. This confused her slightly; she hadn't even tried to frighten him. Yet. Then again, Ron often pointed out that she looked like a deranged harpy when she didn't get her way. Hermione hadn't even bothered to argue with this. Ron could be insensitive, and it seemed that time was not going to change that. The fact that she hadn't hexed him into oblivion was the only thing that convinced her that it was 'true love' and not some left over teenage romanticism.

"You see, the Minister and I are old friends. Further attempts to deny me access will be detrimental to your well being," she hissed. Now she was trying to be scary.

"Are you_ threatening_ me?" The man sounded shocked.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "There is something you need to know about me, Mr. Greenly. I do not threaten. I am merely _informing _you of the consequences of your actions."

Mr. Greenly took out his wand and grumbled something under his breath. A moment later the tip of his wand flared blue. Mr. Greenly stared down on it in distaste. "The Minister will see you now, Ms. Granger."

"Thank you, Mr. Greenly. You've been ever so helpful," she replied, smiling for real this time. She was certain that Minister Shacklebolt would be able to sort this whole mess out and that she would be able to return to her office shortly.

"You're welcome," said Mr. Greenly, in a voice that indicated that she was anything but.

As Hermione walked away, she may have heard a muttered, "I don't get paid enough for this." Or, that may have just been her imagination.

* * *

><p>"Hermione, it's good to see you," said one Kinsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic. The Ministership, Hermione noted, had not been good to him. His face had become heavily etched with lines since the end of the Second War. So much so, that he looked like he was perpetually frowning. His eyebrows had gone completely white, and his skin had taken on a greyish tinge. He looked smaller than she remembered. "Though I suppose this isn't a social call."<p>

"Well, Minister…"

"Kingsley, please," he said, warmly. "We've been through too much for such formalities."

Hermione allowed herself to relax. "Kingsley, then."

He gave her a small smile. "And what is it that I can help you with."

"You see, Min…ah, Kingsley, it started when I came into work this morning and was told to report to your office. Then, I am sure you can imagine my surprise when your assistant tells me that I've just been transferred to the Department of Mysteries, of all places."

"I've never seen someone get so upset at the idea of a promotion."

"I am quite happy in my current position, I assure you." And Hermione was. Sure, life in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures wasn't glamorous. If anything, it was the exact opposite. It was a thankless job that often left Hermione feeling that she could get more accomplished by banging her head repeatedly against her desk. Change was slow and victories were few and far between, but when they came… oh, but when they came.

"Yes, and I've been told by several people that no one works with more fervour than you, but we feel that your talents are being wasted."

Hermione's head snapped up and she very deliberately met the Minister's gaze. "I assure you that working to protect those creatures that cannot protect themselves is not the least bit a waste of my talents."

"Of course not," said the Minister, smoothing over what he was must have realized was a faux pas. Hermione could practically see the gears spinning in his head. "To be honest, this transfer is more of a temporary measure. That is to say, that there is one specific case in which I feel your input would be invaluable."

Hermione could not help it; her curiosity was piqued. She found herself leaning forward in interest. "And what would that be?"

"I have heard you are intimately familiar with the workings of a Time-Turner."

Hermione frowned. "Yes, but they were all destroyed years ago. I don't see how it is relevant."

Kingsley went quiet for a moment. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. "Yes, they were destroyed. However, recently there have been a few documents uncovered. I have it on very good authority that with the right set of minds, these documents could lead to the recreation of Time -Turners."

"Do you think that is wise, Minister?" Hermione asked. Part of her was horrified that they were even considering this, but another part was just aching for a chance to get her hands on those parchments. Her heart quickened in excitement. Oh, it would be a challenge. A very tricky bit of magic, likely involving advanced theory in Artimancy and Charms and, if she was lucky, a little bit of Ancient Runes. It had been a long time since she had a purely academic pursuit, not since her NEWTs, years ago. If she were being honest with herself, she missed it. Still, she couldn't let herself be drawn in. There were more important things she had to do.

"Time-Turners have always been tightly regulated by the Ministry. If they were recreated that would not change," said Kingsley. "They have existed for centuries with only a few minor mishaps."

Horror stories about the consequences of misusing a Time-Turner flashed through her mind. Hermione resisted the urge to snort. _Mishaps indeed_. "I'm sorry, but I must decline. I'm working on something very important at the moment…"

"Yes, yes. Your House Elf Protection Act, I am aware of it. Everybody is. I also know you are having trouble getting anybody to look at it, and that it has failed to pass the last five times you have presented it."

Hermione tried to keep a cool demeanour, but she could tell from the heat rushing to her cheeks that she was less than successful. "Well, yes. It is not exactly a popular piece of legislation. If I remember correctly, you are in no great hurry to help, either. This is very important to me and I will not abandon it just because I have run into a few difficulties. Furthermore…"

Kingsley put up his hand. "That is quiet enough. I see we are at an impasse so I propose an arrangement."

"What sort of arrangement?"

"You will work on this project for a year's duration, or until you are successful, and afterward you can return to your former position."

Hermione frowned. "And what else? Surely that is not everything you are planning on offering?"

"As well," Kingsley continued, after a moment's pause, "I will formally support your House Elf Protection Act. I cannot promise you that that will make a difference, but it may help it pass."

Hermione's hope began to grow. She had come so close last time. She had just needed a few more votes and then it would have made into law. Kingsley's support just might make all the difference. Without his help it might take another five years to achieve her goal, if he supported her, House Elves would have their rights this time next year. Sneaky, she thought, him offering her something she wouldn't turn down. A raise she would have dismissed, but achieving her dream of protecting helpless creatures? It would be selfish not to accept.

However, Hermione's continued silence must have unnerved Kingsley because there was one last thing he was prepared to offer her.

"Of course," said Kingsley, "I will ensure that the incident you caused with the Werewolves doesn't come back to haunt you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Hermione said, perfectly aware what he was talking about, "but I've already destroyed that evidence."

"I didn't hear that, but are you sure?" Kinsley asked.

Hermione was sure, but she wasn't about to risk her career on it. "I think we have a deal Minister."

She put out her hand and they shook on it.

* * *

><p>The incident with the Werewolves hadn't been her fault.<p>

Okay, that was a lie. It had been mostly her fault. _But not completely_, she affirmed to herself. That had been her mantra in the days that had followed.

_"It's mostly my fault, but not completely."_

She repeated it silently to herself often. Mostly she muttered it under her breath as she frantically destroyed any evidence pointing to her involvement. There hadn't been too much; from the outset she had known that her actions weren't exactly legal.

But it had been necessary. Sure Voldemort's control of the Ministry had lasted less than a year, but it had caused an untold amount of problems. Kingsley had had a fun time trying to sort out that mess. After all, the laws passed by the Ministry during that time were surprising declared legal by the Wizagamont. Not that they were enforced, but that didn't mean that they didn't have to be repealed.

However, with so many laws there were bound to be oversights. There was one law that no one had bothered to have repealed because for the longest time no one had knew it existed. It was horrid, and when Hermione had read it for the first time her only thought was: _I bet that was written by Umbridge_.

And it had been. Titled "Provisions for the Control of Humanoid Wolves," the act was little more than the legalization of genocide. According to the act Werewolves were not to be considered humans- that wasn't really shocking to Hermione, but it didn't make her any less furious.

The law was the standard bunch of hate-filled hogwash. It was illegal to hire Werewolves, to rent them apartments, sell them things, etc. However, the most upsetting was the provision making it legal to kill Werewolves and then take in the bodies to receive _payment _from the Ministry.

Of course, when she had realized that this law existed she went to have it overturned right away. And then she had been stonewalled. There had been this particularly nasty piece of work- Henry Greengrass- who did everything in his power to make sure that it was not. Hermione was fairly sure that he was paying people to hunt down and kill Werewolves in order to collect the money which the Ministry paid automatically.

Still, with the help of Harry and Ron, she offered protection to all those Werewolves who asked (and some who didn't, but that was okay because legally it wasn't considered kidnapping. Ironic, really). She even went so far as to smuggle a few of them out of the country. Hermione had also ensured that Henry Greengrass was prevented from voting on the repeal of the legislation. This may or not have involved a portkey hidden on his desk that may or may not have transported him to an undisclosed location that may or may not have been in the middle of a volcano. Hermione thought that this was pretty lenient- her first choice had been the inside of an _erupting_ volcano.

Of course, as soon as the law was overturned, there had been riots in the streets. No one was hurt, but there had been a lot of property damage. Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that more than a few of those individuals had been placed under the Imperius Curse, although that was, of course, impossible to prove once it had been lifted. Hermione had spent days going around muttering under her breath, "You'd think they have a spell to test for that now." But there wasn't. So even though she had gotten what she worked for- saved lives even!- all her work was placed under intense scrutiny and there had been talks of an inquiry…

That hadn't manifested, though she knew that Henry Greengrass was still searching for her involvement in the whole incident. She knew that he wasn't likely to give up either. Of course, there was always the extremely miniscule chance that he would find something that connected her to her multitude of (well executed) crimes. Still, Hermione was confident that Kingsley would keep up his side of the bargain and if something should happen to turn up he would sweep it quietly under the rug.

Hermione went home more relieved than she had been in months.

* * *

><p>That relief didn't last long.<p>

"Ron, what in the world is all of this?" Hermione asked apprehensively. She eyed his impeccable dress robes, and the flowers that he proffered.

"Surprise!" he said with a toothy grin. "Happy anniversary!"

That's what Hermione had feared. She startled when she realized she was biting her bottom lip. She had been so sure she had broken that habit, but as the iron taste of blood filled her mouth she had rather guessed not.

"Honestly, Ron- I told you that you shouldn't make such a big deal of it."

"Aw, come on Hermione, we never go out anymore. Aside from that it's a special occasion. I made reservations at that restaurant you like."

_You mean the restaurant you like_, Hermione thought grimly. She knew better than to voice such thoughts out loud. It just led to needless arguments. She let out a deep breath. Okay, she could do this. After all, it was dinner with the man she loved on the anniversary of their first official date. They didn't celebrate the day of their first kiss for obvious reasons. This should be something she enjoyed, and not something that filled her with a near unspeakable dread.

"Fine Ron, let me just get ready and then we can go."

"Perfect." Ron's grin spread wider.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

He brought her to a Quidditch pub. Hermione should have been shocked, but after a relationship that had had spanned seven years she just…wasn't. She was more than a little aware that she and Ron were grossly overdressed and both of them stuck out like sore thumbs. If anything that was what hurt the most. She could take going out to a pub on her anniversary (she could take not celebrating it at all), but what she couldn't take was being made to look foolish.

"Isn't this great Hermione?" said Ron between mouthfuls, his eyes fixed firmly on the posters of waving Quidditch players. It had taken her years to break him of the habit of talking with his mouth full, and honestly Hermione wasn't sure if it had been worth the effort. There were times when she wasn't certain that the entire relationship was worth the effort it took to maintain. She loved Ron, honestly. The sex was even surprisingly okay, but there was just something missing.

Okay, there were a lot of things missing. She wasn't proud of it, but she had made a list one day when she had been feeling particularly hurt and lonely. Intelligent conversation, if she recalled correctly, had topped said list. She had tried to meet her needs elsewhere- she had joined several book clubs(Muggle and Wizarding, of course) and had tried to make friends at work (which had worked out just as well as expected- which was to say not well at all. _Why must all my attempts at making friends involve Trolls? _she had lamented to Ron afterwards). She had made so many unnecessary trips to Hogwarts that the last time she had gone Professor Flitwick had thrown himself down a set of steps to avoid her. She would have believed it was an accident had she not seen him cast the cushioning charm moments before he started running toward the stairs. And how could she forget Minerva who was _mysteriously_ always busy despite school not even being in session?

Hermione let out a sigh. "Yes, Ron. This was a great idea," she said, for once in her life appreciative that Ron had a very loose grasp of the concept of_ sarcasm_. With that they lapsed into a silence that was decidedly not comfortable. "I got a promotion today," said Hermione after a few excruciating moments.

Ron perked up. "That's fantastic! Did you get much of a raise?"

Hermione blinked owlishly at him. She didn't even think to ask Kingsley if there was any monetary compensation- mostly because she hadn't cared. "Uh, I'm not too sure on the specifics, but I'll be working in the Department of Mysteries for a while."

"I'm proud of you Hermione," said Ron, his face was full of awe and devotion. For a moment Hermione was reminded why she loved him so damn much.

But then he had to go and ruin it.

When she saw his hand reaching for his pocket she didn't think much of it. After all, it was a hand reaching into a pocket: there was nothing the least bit insidious about it…

And then Ron had hauled out the box. At this point Hermione was still in a state of ignorant bliss. She was thinking about going to work tomorrow and maybe spending the weekend going through those documents.

"Hermione Jane Granger," said Ron, as he got down on one knee, "will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

Hermione stared at him blankly for a second or two. Then she caught sight of the ring and gasped. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth. It was the most hideous thing she had ever seen in her life. The band was gold, of course, and was inlaid with a multitude of tiny diamonds. The raison d'étre, however, was a garish ruby that was very likely bigger than her knuckle.

There were many different ways that she could have answered his question. There was the traditional "Yes" and the much less traditional, but always handy "No." Instead the only thing that had come to her lips was, "_Jean_."

Ron looked confused. The other people in the bar who were watching in rapt fascination also seemed befuddled at this turn of events. "Hermione?" asked Ron.

"My middle name is _Jean_. You've known me for fourteen years and you can't even be bothered to remember my _name_?" Hermione was shocked at how calm her voice was.

"Ronald please put away that _thing_," she said as she gestured wildly towards the ring.

Hermione took a few calming breaths and when she was certain that she wasn't going to do something embarrassing- like cry or possibly hex Ron so soundly that they'd never find all the pieces- she said those five little words that had come to define the entirety of their relationship.

"Ron, we need to talk."

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry Hermione it was an honest mistake," said Ron within moments of returning to their apartment. "I really thought your middle name was Jane. I mean I could've sworn…"<p>

Hermione put her hand up. "Ron, this isn't about the name."

"Well, what is it about then? I mean, I spent all that time planning on proposing and trying to make it perfect and you still haven't given me an answer. Merlin, you can't even imagine how long it took me to find a ring that is as…"

"Seriously Ron, I would not finish that thought if you have any hope of this relationship lasting pass the next five minutes."

"…beautiful as you are."

Hermione let out a groan of pain and Ron went quiet. Now that Hermione had the chance to speak she wasn't sure what she wanted to say. She opened her mouth but was interrupted as an owl swept in through the window.

"That's George's owl," said Ron, "I wonder what he wants." Ron took the parchment and read it, making a low sound of disapproval as he did so. "I'm really sorry Hermione, but I have to go. George needs me- it's a joke shop emergency."

Before Hermione could protest, Ron was already through the floo. It was all she could do to shout, "Joke shop emergency, my _arse_," after him.

* * *

><p>She stood outside 12 Grimmauld Place and seriously considered going inside. She knew that it was madness- absolute madness! There was no comfort to be found within those four walls. Not for her. There was, however, a high probability that she would be scolded for not accepting Ron's proposal immediately, or if Ginny was in a particularly spiteful mood, Hermione would find herself tricked into babysitting for the foreseeable future.<p>

Now Hermione wasn't one to hate children, especially the offspring of her two closest friends, but for little James Sirius she felt it prudent to make an exception. He was like Harry and all the Weasley's mixed altogether and then injected with pure caffeine and placed in a candy store. And that was on a good day.

Still warring with her indecision, Hermione was preoccupied enough that she didn't notice Harry as he walked up beside her.

"Woolgathering?" he asked causing Hermione to jump.

"_Merlin_; Harry, what _have_ I told you about doing _that?_"

A devilish smile flickered across his face. "I take it you have something on your mind?"

"Well," said Hermione hesitantly, "the thing is…Ron proposed."

Harry frowned. "And you're not happy about it?"

"I'm not sure. It's just that, the entire thing was awful Harry. Honestly, you would think that after knowing me for over half his life he wouldn't propose in a Quidditch pub with the ugliest ring I have ever laid eyes on and not even have the wherewithal to remember my middle name!" Hermione ranted.

"The wherewith- what? Quidditch Pub?" Confusion clouded Harry's eyes. "What do you mean he didn't remember your _name_?"

"And then, when we start discussing it, he gets called away on a joke shop emergency!"

"What's a joke shop emergency?"

"Exactly!" cried Hermione. "Do you think I'm over reacting?"

Hermione felt a jab in her gut at Harry's doubtful look. "Well, Hermione you know how Ron is. He meant well and he loves you. I'm sure he was just too excited about proposing to think it through."

"I suppose so," said Hermione without much conviction. "Well, thanks Harry. I think that I'm going to take some time and then try to find Ron. I'll see you later."

"Wait you're not coming in? I know of a certain little boy who would love to see his Aunt 'Mione."

Hermione forced herself to smile, "Tell James that I said 'Hi' and that I'll be by to see him soon."

"I will. He adores you, you know."

"I know, and I adore him too." Hermione hoped Harry couldn't tell that she was lying.

* * *

><p>Over the next few days Hermione threw herself into her work. Whenever Ron would try to speak with her, she would tell him that it was not the time and then bury her head into whatever book she was reading.<p>

She, of course, had already gone over the parchments that Kingsley had mentioned and found that they were more complicated and obscure than she had thought. There were moments, when too tired to focus; she would look at the parchments and think, "If only I had a Time-Turner." Then when her mind would catch up with her and she would give a little "Oh" of surprise right before she started to giggle hysterically. Ron looked amused the first time she had done it but was looking rather concerned by the seventh.

Ron stuck his head into her tiny office. "Are you sure you don't want to take a break?" he asked. "I could probably get us seats at our favourite restaurant, if you like."

"The Quidditch pub or the pub that the Quidditch players usually visit?" she asked sarcastically.

"Well, it's a treat for you, so whatever you would prefer," said Ron. Hermione could practically hear the whooshing as the point flew so far over Ron's head that it was probably went into orbit.

"That's nice of you but I need to go to Hogwarts." Hermione gathered her parchments and her cloak.

Ron looked puzzled. "Don't you think that it's a bit late?"

Hermione shrugged. "It's not like there's any students there Ron. Aside from that I just need to check a thing or two in the library and then I'll be right home. I'll be there an hour or maybe two if I make any progress."

"Okay Hermione," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Be safe."

"I will."

"I love you," he said, but by that time she was already out the door and pretended she couldn't hear.

* * *

><p>Hogwarts felt empty. It was the only thing that Hermione could focus on as she walked down the corridor heading to the library. The school was never truly empty and certainly she had never before felt like she was the only person in existence. She couldn't help but notice that she hadn't run into a single ghost and all the portraits were eerily quiet and would not quite meet her eyes…<p>

She shivered and wrapped her cloak tightly around her. She was beginning to think that maybe this hadn't been such a great idea. Still, she wasn't one to stop doing anything because she was afraid. She was a Gryffindor, after all, and if she had anything it was courage. In excess, even.

The library thankfully proved to be more welcoming. Then again, the library had nearly always been deserted in her school days. Even Madam Pince had never been that much of a presence aside from the occasional shushing sound she made.

Hermione made her way through the stacks of shelves until she found the section that she had been looking for. It took less than five minutes to find all the books about time and time travel. Of course, these were just the safe books. She would go through these first and then approach the Restricted Section afterwards. She didn't dare do it now while she was all by herself. No, she would wait until she talked to Minerva before attempting that.

Hermione took a few books that looked promising and got to work. She made notes as quickly as her hand could write them. She stopped as she came to one section that sounded interesting, though irrelevant to her purpose.

_There are plenty of theories regarding time travel though none adequately explain why, even with the use of magic, it is possible. Of course, many less educated folk, such as the over acclaimed Sergis Wiblin, have postulated that time is like a river relentlessly flowing forward in a never ending stream of cause and effect. This is erroneous on numerous levels and would take too many volumes for me to adequately explain the idiocy in such thinking. _

_What is time then? Time is like a tree. It has its roots which we know are there yet cannot see, its trunk which supports its entirety and numerous branches that extend from a common point. Time is not fluid and thus it cannot in the strictest sense be changed. That is not to say that events cannot be altered, but it is more like the budding of a new branch while the old one still exists rather than returning to a point farther up the river. _

By the time Hermione was finished reading for the night she was already four hours of her two hour maximum. She returned home ready to apologize profusely and beg forgiveness but when she went looking for Ron he was sleeping on the couch. Hermione didn't bother to wake him. Neither one of them brought it up the next morning.

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks for reading! Also, thanks to those of you who reviewed/alerted/favoured the last chapter. I'm not sure if Hermione is completely in character, but I justify it because she's older. So it's basically this is what I imagine what a twenty-five year old, slightly more cynical Hermione would act like.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three_

Hermione was huddled in her new office in the Department of Mysteries. Her fingers were laced through her hair as she gripped it in frustration. She had already worried her bottom lip into oblivion days ago and there were now dark shadows under her eyes.

"You look like you could use a break," said a familiar voice. Hermione looked up to see a shock of red hair.

"Ginny! What are you doing here?"

Ginny grinned. "I dropped by to see Harry and I realized that I haven't seen you in a while. Do you want to get lunch?"

"Oh, Gin, I really shouldn't…"

"Nonsense, you really should." Ginny's smile faded. "I think we have to have a talk."

Hermione's stomach dropped. This was not good. She could practically see the ulterior motive radiating from Ginny. "Really, this isn't necessary…" Hermione protested weakly which is probably why ten minutes later she found herself seated in a nearby Muggle restaurant nursing a cup of tea.

It took an extra two minutes for Ginny to start her interrogation. Having undergone Ginny's questioning several times Hermione knew what was coming. Somehow that made it worse because she knew that there was nothing she could do to avoid it.

First there was the expression of concern. "We're worried about you Hermione," said Ginny, looking her point blank in the eye. "Ron says you've barely been eating, that you don't sleep and that you've practically cut yourself off from him."

Then there were the unanswerable questions. "Is your job worth your health? Your relationships? Hermione do you even know what you're doing to yourself?"

Then came the guilt. "Do you even know what you're doing to Ron? He came over yesterday and he's talking about _leaving_ you. Leaving you, Hermione! He says that you turned down his proposal? Honestly, I don't even know what to think. You know we love you, but you have to make a choice. It isn't fair to Ron, and it's not fair to you."

Ron leaving her? Hermione was shocked. It might sound conceited, but she hadn't actually considered that a real possibility. Whenever she imagined her relationship with Ron ending she was always the one who did the breaking up. "I know Ginny, it was just a bunch of things. He's proposal was just awful—you know I'm not big on romance or anything like that, but we've never discussed marriage. It just came out of the blue. Then I started this new job and I didn't realize that it would be so time consuming and we haven't even talked things through."

Ginny frowned at her. "You guys have been dating for seven years, are living together, and you've never discussed getting married?"

"Well, no."

"Be honest Hermione- do you even love Ron?"

"Yes, of course!"

"Well, then I guess you know what needs to be done."

Hermione looked down at her now cold cup of tea. "I do Gin. Believe me, I do."

* * *

><p>Hermione had her breakthrough a few days later. At first she was puzzled as to why everything suddenly made <em>sense<em>. After the last two weeks of muddling through parchment after parchment trying to find the secret of the Time-Turner she could barely believe that the solution was so bloody obvious.

In fact, it so obvious that she didn't immediately jump up and do a little jig in celebration. After all, there was always the possibility that she was wrong. She didn't think so but she wasn't going to risk her credibility on something as important as this. No, she had to test her findings before she presented them to Kingsley.

Hermione gave the Department of Mysteries a quick eye around. She couldn't think of any place within the Ministry that would be appropriate for such testing. Any place that had the right equipment was guarded and anyplace that was private lacked the necessary tools. Hermione gave a sigh. It looked like she was returning to Hogwarts sooner than she planned.

* * *

><p>It was kind of amusing, and more than a little sad, that no one had realized that the sand within the Time-Turner was actually a potion. Hermione, for one, didn't know how she had missed it. For some reason she had just assumed that it was enchanted sand and she was betting that everyone else Kingsley had assigned to the project had made the same fundamental error.<p>

Shaking her head, she waited for her caldron to heat up. She had scavenged the rest of the needed parts and all she had to do was make the "sand" and then she should theoretically be able to travel back in time. Hermione felt perversely excited. After all, she had been given a year to complete the task and she had finished in two months. Soon she would be back to her old department and her crusade to give House Elves their rights. She also knew that she would no longer have an excuse to avoid talking to Ron. Given what Ginny had told her earlier she realized that she would have to act swiftly if they were going to manage to salvage their relationship.

It took her the better part of ten hours to finish the preparations. She frowned when she realized that it was already after midnight. Ron, she knew, was not going to be happy. Hermione was about to cast her _Patronus _to let Ron know she would be home soon when she was struck by the most fantastic of thoughts. A smile slowly made its way across her face. She might already _be_ home if everything had gone according to plan. She put her wand back up her sleeve and began to decant the potion.

A few minutes later she held a complete Time-Turner in her hands. It certainly looked and felt right and now all Hermione had to know was whether or not it actually worked. She decided to try for one hour if see if that went okay and then she would attempt to go a bit further back. She took the Time-Turner and gave it one spin.

Instantly she felt a familiar sensation behind her navel. Her eyes opened wide. It was more like a portkey than travelling back in time. Hermione was gripped with a sense of panic. She tried to throw the object from her hand but the room was already spinning.

And that's when everything went black.

* * *

><p>Severus Snape knew that hurrying would be foolish. There were all manners of spies within the castle and they were watching. And waiting. He took long measured steps and went as quickly as he dared.<p>

_She is here. _The thought hissed and rattled within his head. He found himself going faster the closer he got to the dungeons. His heart was thundering in his chest and the back of his throat tasted like bile. The Marauder's Map was clutched in his pale fingers. Just a few moments ago he had glanced at the Map and had noticed the unexpected dot.

_Hermione Granger. _

And then he was there in the Potion's Classroom. The room was dark and he did not see her at first. "Hermione," he whispered, hearing the angry undertone in his voice. There was no answer and he was hit with a jolt of panic.

_Lumos_, he thought and the tip of his wand lit up. He shone the light around the room until he caught the sight of a foot from behind a potion's bench. He made his way over, cautious, and with every nerve on edge. He directed his wand down to illuminate her face. Her eyelids fluttered but stayed closed and Snape could see that she was breathing evenly by the fall and rise of her chest.

He studied her and noticed immediately that she was _wrong_. His brow furrowed as his mind ran through the possibilities. Polyjuice? No that created a perfect copy. Some sort of glamour? Snape quickly cast the counter-charm and her appearance didn't change. His thoughts were interrupted when the woman- whoever she may have been- let out a small groan. There was confusion in those honey brown eyes that stared up at him

"Am I dead?" she asked, her voice cracking. "I'm in the presence of a dead man. _Of course I'm dead_."

Snape had no proper answer so he did the only thing he could do. "_Stupefy."_

* * *

><p>"Well, you certainly weren't exaggerating when you said we had a problem."<p>

Snape snorted. "When have you ever known me to exaggerate?"

The woman raised an eyebrow at him. The sides of her mouth quirked up in amusement.

"Don't you start that," he said, "that's my look."

She shrugged. "Well, you really don't have anyone to blame but yourself considering how you're an incredibly bad influence. Oh, stop scowling at me Severus- you know it's true."

"I know nothing of the sort."

The woman signed. "Honestly, there's no point in arguing with you."

"That's what I've constantly been trying to tell you, my dear," he drawled, "there's no point when I'm always right."

"Back to our little problem," the woman glanced at one Hermione Granger, still stunned, and now magically bound to a chair. "So you've ruled out Polyjuice, glamours and spells of all sorts."

"Yes."

"And do you have any other ideas because otherwise this isn't possible."

Snape tried not to fidget. "There is something," he said after a minute or so of silence. He took the object from the pocket of his robe. "I found this near her body."

"A Time-Turner?" She grabbed it out of his hands. "That's even more impossible!" Her face turned thoughtful. "Though I guess it's the most logical explanation. Do you think she's from the future?"

Snape's face turned grim as he recalled Hermione's words. _'I'm in the presence of a dead man. Of course I'm dead.' _That wasn't the most encouraging news he could have heard and he wasn't sure what it meant. If she had meant to travel back in time surely she would have expected to see him? Unless something had gone wrong.

"It's highly doubtful that she's from the past now isn't it?" he snapped.

The woman smiled. "I guess you're right. Stupid question."

Snape heard a soft groan. "She's waking up. You should go. I'm going to start my questioning." _And it is not going to be pleasant. _

It was unspoken, but they both knew that it was there. "Just be careful Severus." The woman stood on her tiptoes and brushed her lips across his cheek. "Just because she has my face doesn't mean she's me."

"I know Hermione," said Snape, as he leaned down to capture her lips. "I know."

* * *

><p><em>Bloody Hell<em>. That was the only thing that came to Hermione's mind as she regained consciousness. Her head was absolutely pounding and she had no idea where she was. It must have said something about her state of mind that it took a good five minutes before she realized that she could not move.

"Shite," she mumbled as she attempted to open her eyes. She closed them a moment later when she realized that the room was spinning.

"Here," said a voice she recognized, but couldn't quite place. She felt the press of cool glass against her lips and she opened her mouth and swallowed. It took a few seconds but soon her head started to clear.

"Thank you," she said. She cracked her eyes opened and forced them to focus. That's when she noticed him. A memory flashed in her head then of him finding and leaning over her. He looked very much alive despite the fact she had seen him die seven years ago. She was about to accuse him of being dead once again when she remembered that blasted Time-Turner. Just how far back had she gone?

"What is your name?" he asked in that infuriating voice of his.

"Hermione Jean Granger." Her eyes widened. She realized then that he must have given her Veritaserum. Hermione resisted the urge to let out a strong of curses.

"Do you know where you are?"

"Hogwarts, I think. Or, at least, that's where I last remember being."

Snape nodded his approval. "And why are you here?"

"I came to make a potion," said Hermione, which was the truth in the strictest sense. She cursed inwardly about never learning to resist its effects to any great extent. There had never been time during the war and afterwards…well, there seemed to be no point.

Snape frowned but didn't press the issue. "What year is it?" he asked, and that's when Hermione knew that he must have found the Time-Turner.

"Two-thousand and five," she gritted out. It was faint and quick but Hermione swore she saw a flash of surprise in Snape's eyes. Perhaps that was not the answer that he had been expecting.

"Where exactly did you get the Time-Turner?"

"I made it."

"No lies, Miss Granger."

"I'm under the effects of Veritaserum and you still accuse me of lying? Wow, I didn't realize just how capable you believe me to be. " Hermione was pleased to note that, unlike Ron, Severus Snape- at least, if his glare of death was any indication- seemed to understand sarcasm just fine.

"I think you're very capable, Miss Granger. That is one of the many reasons that I do not trust you."

She blinked up at him. "Thank you. I think."

"And why exactly did you decide to make a Time-Turner?"

"I was blackmailed into it. Plus, I thought that it might be kind of fun."

"Who blackmailed you?"

"The Minister," she said. This time Snape definitely startled.

"The _Minister_? And who exactly is the Minister where you're from Miss Granger?"

Hermione resisted the urge to tell him. "I can't tell you that. It might mess with time, as you well know."

"You'll tell me, Miss Granger, or I'll force my way into your head to get the answer to my question. I'm sure there's information in there that would be exceedingly more damaging to _time_ than this. It is your choice Miss Granger and I implore you to choose wisely."

"You're bluffing." He had to be bluffing. After all, Snape was supposed to be on their side, wasn't he?

"Have you ever known me to bluff?" Snape placed a thumb under her chin and forced her head upwards until he was staring into her eyes. Not for the first time, Hermione noticed how incredibly black they were. She gulped and felt fairly certain that he _wasn't _bluffing after all.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt," she said. She felt the grip on her chin momentarily tighten before he let go completely.

"You are exceedingly easy to manipulate, Miss Granger."

Tears burned in the back of her eyes. "What do you want Snape?"

"That's Headmaster Snape to you."

"Well, thanks for letting me know that it's 1997 or 1998, _Headmaster_."

Snape's lips curled up in a most unattractive fashion. Hermione almost thought that it almost looked like a smile. Almost. "Well, Miss Granger," he said, leaning forward until his lips were by her ear. She shivered at the feeling of his breath against her neck. "Contrary, to what you believe, it is 2005."

He drew his head back. "Do you know what that means, Miss Granger?"

"That you're a liar?"

"No, Miss Granger. It means you _haven't_ travelled back in time. It means that you've torn a hole in time itself and have somehow managed to travel sideways."

"That's impossible."

"Yes, Miss Granger, it is. Care to explain how you managed it?"


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter Four _

It was only a few minutes later that Hermione found herself in the Room of Requirement. "Wasn't this place destroyed?"

Snape didn't answer her. Instead he just walked around the perimeter of the room making sure that it was properly warded. Hermione didn't think that this was necessary in the strictest sense, but she was smart enough to know that it would be an argument that she would lose.

"Now Miss Granger," Snape said, "I am aware that there are obvious differences between our two worlds, but I am uncertain of their extent. Suffice to say, in this world you are in danger. You are extremely lucky that I was the one who found you otherwise you would be very dead right now. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded. She did understand. After all, the very fact that Snape was alive and still Headmaster of Hogwarts told her all that she needed to know about the outcome of the final battle. Her heart gave a squeeze for Ron and Harry and herself. She had no idea if any of them were alive in this world and it saddened her to think that perhaps they had all been killed.

The fact that Snape was helping her still boggled the mind, however. She knew intellectually that he was on their side all along, but to see him without her previous prejudices was really quite amazing. Not that she would ever admit it out loud.

"You will stay here and I will have a House Elf deliver food as soon as possible. Do you have any questions?" he asked wryly.

Hermione nearly choked when she realized that Snape had made a joke at her expense. "So Volde…"

"Don't say his name you idiot girl," he hissed at her.

"Sorry," she mumbled, more than a little embarrassed. "I forgot."

"Slip-ups like that will get both of us killed. Consider being more careful in the future for both of our sakes."

Hermione nodded and she saw Snape relax. "So You-Know-Who won the war?" She needed confirmation of her suspicions.

"Yes he did."

"And now?"

Snape gave a humourless laugh. "Would you believe that he is not even in power? He won the war but that was not enough" Snape shook his head. "With all his Horcuxes gone he attempted to make another. And do you know what happens when you divide your soul one too many times Miss Granger?"

"I haven't the pleasure."

Snape quirked his lips so quickly that Hermione was not really sure he had. "What_ happens,_ Miss Granger, is that the soul disintegrates. The Dark Lord killed himself in his attempt to make himself immortal. Ironic, really."

"If he is dead, why can't I say Voldemmmmmm….?" Hermione instantly found a binding over her mouth.

"Because Miss Granger, I said the Dark Lord is dead, but he is far from being defeated. He may have had full control over the Wizarding World for only a few months but that was more than a sufficient amount of time in which to completely entrench a new government, a new police force, and an entire new set of laws."

"Are people fighting back?" Hermione asked outraged, having successfully removed the binding.

Snape sneered. "Of course we are fighting back, Miss Granger! We have been for seven years now, but in case you haven't realized it, the movement isn't exactly popular."

"_And why not_?"

"We have peace Miss Granger. It might not be the sort of peace everyone wanted, but for most of us it is more than enough."

Hermione tried to blink back tears, but she could feel them sliding down her cheeks. "And Ron? Harry? Ginny?" _Me?_

"That's enough for now. I'm sick of you and your incessant questioning. I do have better things to do than babysit you."

"I'm sure you do, _Headmaster_."

"Well, goodnight Miss Granger. I will see you sometime tomorrow. In the meantime do your best not to get us all killed." And then Snape was gone and Hermione was left alone with her thoughts. And somehow that was worse.

* * *

><p>When Hermione had not returned from work, Ron wasn't all that worried. Lately it had become typical behaviour for her. When she wasn't home by midnight he started to fume and curse and drink.<p>

It wasn't until she didn't show up in the morning that he began to worry. At first he was sure that she had left him. After all, why would she stay? She was beautiful and intelligent and was far more successful than he could ever hope to be. But he knew her. She wasn't a coward and she would not leave without at least some goodbye or explanation. Knowing Hermione such an explanation would involve diagrams. And charts. Ron would never again underestimate the power of charts.

When he received an owl from the Ministry inquiring after her whereabouts, Ron sprang into action. He sent an owl to everyone he could possibly think of asking if they had seen her. He received a multitude of "No's" from nearly everyone and expressions of concern form Harry and Ginny and others. Only Headmistress McGonagall's response seemed promising.

Harry arrived moments after Ron had received the last response. "Have you found her yet?" he asked anxiously.

Ron shook his head. "No, but McGonagall says that Hermione asked permission to use Potion's equipment at Hogwarts last night. I'm heading over there now."

"I'm coming with you," said Harry.

"Do you think she's okay?"

Harry looked grim. "I hope so, Ron. I hope so."

* * *

><p>When Snape returned to his office, Hermione- his Hermione- was waiting. She was sitting in his chair, her chin in her hands and her eyes half closed. He studied her for a moment. She looked different than she used to. Older, of course, not just due to her age but to the hardships she had faced in recent years. Her once long curly hair was cropped close to her head. It was a complete mess, but then again she had shorn it off herself because her hair had made her too distinguishable on the battle field. There was a scar on her face- it started just under her left eye, ran diagonally across her nose and ended just above the right corner of her lips. He knew that it was a <em>Sectumsempra<em> that had done it and he often felt twinges of guilt: both for not being there to heal her when it happened and for creating the damn spell in the first place.

"So what's the verdict?" she asked, snapping him out of his reverie.

"She seems to be you from an alternate universe."

"Is that supposed to be some sort of lark?"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "I've just spent the last two hours with that insufferable chit and that's seems to be the best explanation that I could come up with."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "By all rights, that should not be possible."

"I think that that has been fairly well established," Snape said dryly.

Hermione stood. "I want to talk to her."

"Absolutely not. I forbid it."

"You forbid it?"

"I do. If you attempt to disobey me you will find yourself removed from this school faster than you can blink."

Hermione crossed her arms. "I'd like to see you try."

"You have to understand the inherent danger in meeting her. You know that when you travel in time you have to ensure that you are not seen by your past self. I don't see how this is any different."

"It _is_ different." Hermione sighed. "I say we bring her to the Order and let them decide."

Snape nodded. "We will have to. She cannot stay here. I have her tucked away in the Room of Requirement, but I cannot guarantee that she will not be found. It is not a permanent solution."

"Okay, so we transport her to a safe house tomorrow."

"And after that?"

"I don't know Severus! There's not exactly a standard way of dealing with this, now is this?" Hermione dropped her face into her hands. "What _are_ we going to do?"

Snape wished he could reassure her; that he say the words and complete the actions that would relieve her anger and frustration. Yet he could not. "Have you decided who will transport the girl?"

Hermione looked up. "Me, of course. I still have some Polyjuice that I can use."

He gave her a scornful look. "No, there are too many things that can go wrong. I suggest you send the Weasley boy."

"_Ron_? Now I know you're having me on."

"I'm perfectly serious. He is competent enough." It was only when he finished speaking that he saw realization dawning on her face. He knew then that Hermione had seen through his plan. He cursed himself for using the word 'competent' in any way to describe Ron Weasley; it must have been a clear giveaway of his ulterior motives. He had been sloppy and he would pay dearly for that.

"Are you trying to set up the other me with Ron?" Snape looked away, carefully schooling the guilt from his face. "That's just disturbing Severus. What the bloody hell are you thinking?"

"That maybe that_ boy_ would finally leave you alone."

"I'm going to do us both a favour and pretend the last part of this conversation never happened. Instead, I'm going to the adult here, compromise, and send Ginny."

"That is acceptable."

"Good, because I was going to do so whether you cared for it or not."

"Yes, you're a shining beacon of maturity."

"Comparatively, yes." Hermione walked toward him, and he stilled as she placed her hands on his shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes. She cocked her head to the side, never breaking eye contact. "But you knew that."

"You should go," he managed. He found it strange how she could take an argument and turn it into playful flirting.

"I really should. They're expecting me back tonight."

"And what did you tell them?"

"I told them that my _spy_ had some valuable information and that I would return as soon as possible."

He dipped his head lower. "And they still don't realize that I'm your spy?"

Hermione gave his shoulders a gentle squeeze and propped herself up on her tiptoes. "They're a lovely, if somewhat close-minded bunch, who despise you so much that even if I told them the truth they would never believe it."

"I see. Well, we wouldn't want them to worry."

"No, I suppose not," she said, but Snape could only concentrate on how near she was. He closed the minuscule distance between them and grazed his lips softly against hers. She let out a groan of frustration before she deepened the kiss. He noticed with a kind of curious detachment how one hand twined itself in his hair and how the other gripped the back of his neck.

Hermione broke the kiss. "Severus, I really do have to leave."

"I know."

She stepped back from his arms and smiled up at him. "It won't be forever you know. It's just until the War is over." Snape inclined his head, as if he was agreement. He knew that her words were empty ones, but it was a ritual they went through for reasons that he couldn't even begin to fathom. He never examined it too closely because of what he might find.

She picked up her invisibility cloak and wrapped it around her. "I'll send you a message after I discuss things with the Order."

"Certainly."

Hermione looked uncertain and she seemed as though she wanted to say something but stayed silent.

"Why are you still here?" he snapped. Hermione gave him a withering look before placing the invisibility cloak over her head. He heard her footsteps, saw the door open and close and he very much felt as her presence left the room. He was left alone with nothing but his thoughts. And somehow that was worse.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Thanks to everyone who is taking time to follow this story! Also, I usually update on Thursdays, but Chapter Five might be a bit later than normal because and I will be without the internet for a few days. Plus exams! And papers! And Nanowrimo (which seemed like a good idea at the time)! And then more exams! And then sleep!


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter Five_

Hermione had waited approximately five minutes after Snape left before she began freaking out.

"Oh Christ, this can't be happening."

"Why is this happening?"

"Where the fuck is my wand?"

"Merlin, I'm going to be fired."

"Fired? Who the bloody hell am I'm kidding? I'm going to kill Kingsley."

"What about Ron? Oh, poor Ron. He's going to hate me."

"He hates me already."

"Why didn't I write a note? I could have least have written a note."

"Why didn't I run tests before I tried it out on myself?"

"I could have used a rat! I could have used Henry Greengrass!"

"I'm a foolish, stupid, idiotic, brainless, dim-witted, dunderhead!"

Hermione groaned and collapsed on the bed. "Lumpy, of course, the bed is lumpy." Exhaustion overtook her and she drifted off to sleep. She wasn't sure how long she slept for before she felt herself falling. It was only a few feet but she hit the floor hard. She felt the shock of impact right to her teeth and ending up biting her lip hard.

"What the…?" She managed to get to her knees and reached out her hands but there was nothing to grasp. She crawled forwards until she reached a wall and then propped herself up against it. Her gaze drifted over the Room of Requirement and her eyes widened in amazement. The entire room had morphed itself into a _bowling alley_. _Ten pin_, she noted, _five lanes and a pile of smelly shoes_. _Why am I not surprised?_

She was fatigued enough that she drifted off to sleep relatively quickly- bed or no bed. Suddenly, she was unceremoniously submerged in water. She managed to get her head above the surface and found herself sputtering the foul tasting liquid from her mouth.

She swam around for what seemed like hours, but was likely only a minute or two, and gratefully hoisted herself upon the first solid surface that she came across. From her new vantage point she could see that the room had morphed itself into an indoor swimming pool (complete with a diving board and a long twisty slide). Hermione dropped her head into her hands. "Why is this happening?"

She was cold and wet, and really wanted to go home. Barring that, she would take some sleep- any sleep at all really. It wasn't long before the room began to morph again. Hermione stood, on guard, not in the mood for any more pleasant surprises. A screeching sound- not unlike that of the turning of rusted gears- emanated from the walls which were beginning to collapse in on themselves.

"Huh, I guess the Room of Requirement _was_ destroyed," Hermione said, looking over the charred, twisted space before her. "And someone did a horrible job trying to fix it." There was something oddly comforting about the sound of her voice. At this point, talking to herself wasn't particularly high on her list of worries. Being trapped in an alternate universe where Voldemort had won the war and Snape was still Headmaster were still her primary concerns.

Hermione didn't dare trying to go back to sleep and though she desperately wanted to leave the room (she was starting to believe that it was actively trying to kill her) she stayed where she was. For all she knew that Carrows were still at Hogwarts and that they would kill her on sight. And she knew that Snape would kill her if she ended up getting herself killed.

_Snape_. Her heart gave an odd little squeeze when she thought of him. She had never thought that she would get to see him alive again, but there he had been, living and breathing. She didn't know how far to trust him, but since he had protected her so far (despite still not liking her in the least) she felt certain that he was still on their side.

She wondered if he was still working with the Order, and whether or not they even knew that he hadn't actually betrayed them after all. She wondered what had happened that the course of history had been changed so dramatically, and whether or not it could still be fixed.

* * *

><p>Snape found her four hours later, huddled against the wall muttering to herself.<p>

"Miss Granger?" he asked, and she gave a little jump.

She scrambled to her feet, lifting her still damp and tangled hair from her face. "Professor! I didn't hear you come in."

She felt as his eyes flick over her body and took in her dishevelled appearance. "You've seemed to have had an_ interesting _night."

"Well, the room kept changing by itself. I couldn't get any rest."

Snape looked over to the bed that was in the exact spot where it had been the night before. "It is most unfortunate that the room sometimes needs a few hours to settle in a permanent form."

"Some warning might have been nice."

"Yes, forgive me," Snape said, and for one crazy second Hermione actually believed that he was apologizing, "I was too concerned about hiding you and keeping you safe that I forgot to take your comfort into account. It's a terrible oversight and I fail to see how I could have made such a mistake. Next time I will place you in a room that has a permanent bed instead of the room which has the strongest wards within the castle itself."

Hermione's face burned. "I wasn't complaining."

He looked down her nose at her. "I didn't suggest that you were."

Silence descended over them. Hermione took the time to study him and was surprised at what she saw. There was no doubt that he was the man she remembered- tall with a hooked nose, pale skin and dark, lank hair. Yet, at the same time, he was not. He seemed more- and Hermione struggled to come up with an appropriate word- _human. _She wasn't sure if it was due to the differences between their worlds or if it was her fundamental perception of him that had changed. After all, he was no longer the cartoon-like villain of her youth. He was a man who had suffered, and loved, and had ultimately died in his pursuit to fix the mistakes of his past.

Except he wasn't dead. Not in this world.

"Is there something wrong Miss Granger?" The look on Snape's face told Hermione that he was completely aware of her perusal. He glared at her, but she couldn't even work up the energy to be embarrassed about her blatant stare.

"In my world, you have been dead for seven years. I apologize, but it's still a shock to see you alive."

Snape pursed his lips together. "I assume that plays into your willingness to trust me?"

"Well, in part. After you were- after you passed away it was revealed that, despite all evidence to the contrary, you were on the Order's side to the last. I've been working on the assumption that that's still the case. That, paired with the fact that you haven't killed me even though I'm currently completely helpless is also encouraging."

"Now, now, Miss Granger- I've never known you to be completely helpless," said Snape. Once again Hermione was dumbfounded. Had he just complimented her? _Again? _

"You are correct to a certain extent," said Snape as Hermione just gawked at him open-mouthed, "my loyalty lies with the Order, but as you imagine they do not look on me too kindly since the night atop the Astronomy tower."

"And you help them without their knowing?" _The same way you helped us?_

"Essentially. However, I do have contacts within the Order that are privy to the truth, but for my own safety, my allegiance is not widely known. I have spoken to one individual who had arranged for someone to accompany you from Hogwarts to Order Headquarters."

"May I ask who?"

"Ginvera Longbottom will be the one accompanying you. I do not have direct contact with her and you must not let her know that it was I who helped you."

Hermione perked up. "Ginny! Oh, I'm so glad she's safe." It took a few seconds for the meaning of Snape's words to sink in. "Wait, _Longbottom_?"

Snape raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her. "Safe is a relative term Miss Granger. But yes, she is alive and not currently imprisoned. Though she is, in fact, married to one Neville Longbottom which may be considered a fate worse than death by some."

Hermione ignored his snarky comment. "Ginny and Neville? But what about Harry?"

Snape pressed his lips into a hard line. Hermione wasn't sure, but she thought she saw a lingering regret in his eyes. She struggled for a second to fight off the sobs she felt building in her throat. She shouldn't be surprised- after all, Voldemort had won- logically it would follow that Harry had been killed. But having her worst fears confirmed was another thing entirely.

She took a deep breath. Harry was alive. She had to remember that. She would find a way back home and she would see Harry again, and even his son little James Sirius. "Okay," Hermione said with a calm she didn't feel, "so what I am to tell Ginny exactly?"

"You will tell her nothing. I imagine that she has been informed of who you are and what has happened to you. That is all she needs to know. Do not tell her anything of me and our conversations, lest she think you a traitor. They will be suspicious enough and will question you as I have done."

"Nowhere near as ruthlessly, I hope," Hermione joked.

"You may be surprised of what your friends are capable of, Miss Granger." His face was stern and his jaw was set. Hermione could not recall ever seeing him express such quiet determination before. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt a swooping sensation in her stomach.

"I must be going. Mrs. Longbottom will be here shortly and I must make sure that she enters the castle unnoticed."

Hermione nodded and then watched him as he left. Her head was strangely lightheaded and her face was flushed. She sat down on the bed and waited for Ginny to come and did her best to ignore whatever it was that Snape had just made her feel.

* * *

><p>Ron shivered as he entered the Potion's classroom. He could tell instantly that there was something <em>wrong.<em>

"You feel that?" asked Harry, and Ron nodded his assent. They drew their wands and walked forward cautiously.

The room looked much as it had when they were students, though it had been eight years since either of them had been there. Ron could see that the benches were the same and the air was oppressive as he remembered. On the first bench there stood a small caldron. Ron peered inside and noticed that it was empty. Next to it laid a few sheets of parchment scribbled with Hermione's neat writing.

"Hermione?" Ron called, not expecting to hear an answer but hoping nonetheless. Her name echoed in the dungeon though there was no response. They started to examine the contents of the room and it was only a few seconds before Harry made a sound of exclamation.

"What? What did you find?"

"Her wand is here," said Harry, gingerly picking it up from the ground. This disturbed Ron more than any of their other discoveries- wherever she was- she was helpless.


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter Six_

When Ginny had walked into the Room of Requirement, Hermione had hardly recognized her. Her hair was no longer red, but instead a dull brown colour; her skin had always been pale, but now had taken on a sickly hue; and her face was taunt, lined with deep shadows where her cheekbones seemed to jut out.

"Ginny?" Hermione had asked because she was unsure and nervous about seeing her friend who technically _wasn't_ her friend.

"Hermione?" Ginny asked back. "It really is _you._" Hermione was relieved to note that at least Ginny sounded the same, if nothing else. Hermione nodded because she couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Oh, I have something for you," Ginny rummaged around in a purse that Hermione was intimately familiar with and a few seconds later produced a wand. Hermione grasped the wooden object and ran her hand against the grain, feeling magic seep from her fingers. She gave the wand a small wave causing colourful sparks to fly out through the end.

"It's a good fit," Hermione said, as she created a little blue flame that danced around in her palm.

Ginny smiled wryly. "Well, it is technically your wand. Had it not worked I would've been worried."

It occurred to Hermione then, that the wand in itself had been sort of a test to prove her identity. It hadn't been sufficient that she had been drugged with Vertiserum and forcefully questioned- no, her own wand had to recognize her. It wasn't that she didn't understand that her friends were in very real danger, but it was exhausting to think that she would have to prove her trustworthiness again and again. And it still would never be enough. The fact that she had been given a wand that was compatible with her gave her both a sense of comfort and of dread. "If this is my wand does that mean the Hermione of this world is…" _Dead_?

"No, she is still very much alive. That's her old wand. It just doesn't work very well for her anymore. We just assumed that it would work fine for you given that you're how she used to be."

_Used to be? _Hermione wanted to ask, but bit her tongue. This was no time for conversation. They had to leave Hogwarts and travel to Order headquarters where Hermione was sure that she would be questioned yet again. "And how do you get from Hogwarts?" She asked instead.

Ginny pulled the invisibility cloak from her bag. "This."

"And the map?"

"The map was destroyed."

"And how do you get in and out? Weren't all the hidden passageways blocked off?"

"They were, but we do have allies within the school itself who have managed to create new ones."

Snape, Hermione knew, had been the one to do it, but he would likely never receive any recognition for his efforts.

"Quickly," Ginny urged, "we haven't much time."

* * *

><p>It was foggy and cold. Hermione could barely see a foot in front of her. She clenched her wand in her wand and was moments away from casting a spell to dissipate the mist.<p>

Ginny grabbed her arm. "Don't," she hissed, giving a squeeze. Hermione suppressed a wince. "There are muggles in the area, Hermione."

Hermione lowered her wand, but didn't put it away- that seemed foolish at best and deadly at worst. "Sorry," she hissed backed, irritated, not just at Ginny but at the entire situation that she had found herself in. "How close are we?"

"We're a few minutes away but," said Ginny, "the place is secret kept."

On one level this didn't surprise Hermione, but for all of her life she had only known one man who could perform that spell and he was dead in both worlds. She wondered briefly who had learned the spell and whether it had been cast with any level of skill. When Ginny passed her a small scrap of paper all those thoughts flew from her head as she read the address: "_Spinner's End_."

She began laughing and poor Ginny had no idea why. "I know my own hand writing," she offered as an explanation. Really, it was the complete irony of the Order using Severus Snape's home as headquarters that she had found so amusing, but she gathered that there were only a few people who were privy to that information. The implications of that were startling to her.

It was Snape's home and the Hermione of this world was the secret keeper; there were only several things that could mean. The most obvious was that it was Hermione, herself, who was working with Snape behind the Order's back. Which, she admitted, wasn't something entirely unexpected- after all, she did consider herself one of the most open-minded of the bunch. She couldn't, for instance, imagine Ron letting bygones be bygones whether he knew the entire truth, or even if it was to the advantage of everyone involved.

"Are you alright?" She startled at Ginny's question.

"Oh, yes. Sorry, I was distracted," Hermione said, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hand. Her eyes had started to mist over when she thought of Ron. By now he would have noticed that she was gone and she couldn't even imagine what he must be thinking.

"Well, if you're sure…" Ginny shrugged, "Follow me to the house. Stay behind. There shouldn't be any trouble, but you can never be sure."

Hermione followed behind pretending like she didn't know the way. True she had only been here once over six years ago, but she was well known for her good memory. She had visited the place with Harry who had inherited all Snape's stuff because, well, there hadn't been anyone else. Hogwarts hadn't wanted it and the Ministry hadn't known what to do with it.

They stepped inside and Hermione noticed that the place hadn't been changed at all. Well, all the books containing dark spells were gone, but she guessed that was probably a safety precaution more than anything else. And the smell- the entire place smelled of herbs and spice and parchment- just like him. In fact the olfactory link was so strong she was surprised that no one else had already made the connection.

"Your room is right behind here." Ginny gave her wand a little swish and one of the bookcases that lined the walls crept opened. Behind that wasn't so much a room, but a closet with a futon on the floor. Given how tired Hermione was the place looked like a little slice of heaven.

"Thanks," she said with as much sincerity as she could.

"Get some rest Hermione- tomorrow's going to be a busy day." Ginny didn't say it, but Hermione could tell by her adverted eyes- tomorrow was going to involve questions. Tough questions. And she better have all the right answers. Or else.

* * *

><p>When Hermione awoke she had no idea where she was. Her feeling of amnesia didn't involve any blissful unawareness; instead there was nothing but jittery anxiety right down to her bones. She shot up quickly- given that she was in a small room with a low ceiling it was perhaps not the wisest of decisions.<p>

"Bugger!" she yelped, clutching her hands to her head. Her cry of distress must have alerted the others to her presence because not even a second later the door was being opened from the outside. And there stood Ron. Hermione's breath caught. He looked the same, really. His hair a little longer, his frame a little thinner and his face a little more lined. But underneath all those little changes, it was still the same old Ron.

Except he didn't say anything to her. Hermione was further discouraged by the frown on his face and the mistrust she could see in his blue eyes.

"Um, hullo?" she said, desperate to break the silence.

"They're in the kitchen waiting for you," was all he said. "The loo's upstairs if you need it, but I wouldn't keep _the boss_ waiting." Hermione was shocked at the sarcasm she heard in his voice. It just wasn't him.

"Thanks," she mumbled, pushing past him. She completed her morning grooming as best she could- excepting her hair (which was flying off in so many directions and seemed to be moving on its own accord – she was half convinced that a mouse had taken up residence overnight. Or she would have been if she didn't believe firmly that even a rodent would have more sense than attempt to navigate the labyrinth of curls on her head).

Okay, she was ready. In reality she was the furthest thing from. There was no precedent for what had happened to her. What did she reveal? What did she keep secret? And how in the world did she face herself?


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter Seven_

Hermione found herself standing right outside the kitchen- she took a deep breath and counted to ten- her trick to keep calm when facing exams and Death Eaters, alike. She walked in to see five people sitting at the table. There was Ron and Ginny, of course; Neville, she guessed, though his face was heavily scared; George; and finally, herself sitting at the head of the table.

Her eyes were instantly drawn to this alternate her. Hermione was riveted by the scar that crossed her doppelganger's face and the short, almost spiky hair.

"Blimey," said George. "You really are her."

The other Hermione looked at her thoughtfully. "Sit."

Hermione, her body on autopilot, sat.

"We have questions," said Ron.

"Why, yes, Ron- I did manage to gather that, thanks." Hermione hadn't meant to be snarky, but after the last few days she found herself hard-pressed to be polite. George snorted and, from the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Ron go an interesting purple shade.

"We should get started. To avoid confusion, you can refer to me as Granger, as everyone else does. I assume you still go by Hermione?"

Hermione nodded.

"Very well. I understand that you have already been extensively questioned and we have determined that you are who you say you are. I do, however, want to establish when our timelines diverged. Do you understand?" asked Granger.

Hermione managed to grit out a "Yes" but wondered if she always spoke in such a condensing tone and wondered if that's why she had problems making friends. It would, perhaps, explain a lot.

"We'll start at the obvious. Victor of the Battle of Hogwarts?"

"The Order and our allies."

Granger scribbled something on a sheet of paper. "And I correct in assuming that it was Harry Potter who killed You-Know-Who?"

"Yes."

"And did he survive this encounter?"

"He did. I saw him several days ago."

Ginny let out a little gasp of air.

"I see. And what can you tell me about the fate of Albus Dumbledore?"

"Killed at the end of my sixth year, atop the Astronomy Tower, by Professor Snape." Hermione recited feeling like she was playing a real-life version of Cluedo.

"Bloody bastard." This was from Ron.

"Flitwick?"

"Still alive and teaching."

"McGonagall."

"Headmistress."

"Kingsley?"

"Minister for Magic."

"Snape."

"Dead."

Granger snapped her head up. "When?"

"During the battle. Ron, Harry and I were in the Shrieking Shack when..." Hermione stopped then when it was clear that the others were distracted by some uncomfortable memory.

Ron and Granger's eyes met. They held each other's gaze for a moment before quickly looking away. "How?" asked Ron. "And why?"

"You-Know-Who set Nagini on him because he believed that Professor Snape was master of the Elder Wand. Does this sound familiar to either of you?"

"Yes," said Granger, "We were there, but Snape didn't die. Harry did."

Hermione was puzzled. "Harry? How?"

The chair screeched across the floor and all eyes turned to Ron. "I don't want to hear it," he muttered before turning on his heal and walking from the room.

"That is, perhaps, a conversation for a different time," Granger said tersely and everyone else nodded in agreement. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of Hermione's stomach. What was so bad that they refused to talk about it? But even she could tell that right know would not be an opportune moment to probe.

It was quiet for a moment before Neville spoke, "So, what is it like to live in a world where we won?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "I'm not sure how much I should say, but it's been..." She hesitated for a moment trying to find the right words. "That is to say, life isn't perfect. It never is, but it's nice to wake up in the morning and the only thing I have to worry about is how much frustration work or Ron is going to cause me."

"Ron?" Ginny piped in. "So, you guys got together in your world?"

"Ah, yes?"

"See, I told you Granger, you guys are perfect for one another."

"Shut-up, Ginny," said Granger sourly, like it was a conversation that they had had plenty of times. "I've already told you my thoughts on it."

"And what about me?" asked Neville, in a likely attempt to steer the conservation away from hazardous ground.

Hermione smiled. "You are the Herbology professor at Hogwarts. Newly appointed head of Gryffindor House."

Neville hesitated like he wanted to ask something else, but seemed to refrain himself.

"Ooh, do me next. Please?" asked George.

"You and Ron are running the joke shop."

"So Fred is dead there as well," Ginny stated bluntly.

"I don't think that this is the wisest idea." Granger stood, hands on the table, leaning forward. "There's no point in flaunting in front of us what we can never have and what we have lost forever."

"I never meant," Hermione sputtered out, but her doppelganger was already out the door, and the others started to follow. "I never meant to flaunt. I was only answering questions," she finished, but it was to an empty room.

* * *

><p>Hermione was fast growing bored and lonely at Spinner's End. Since the blow-up in the kitchen her first day there, the others had been walking on eggshells around her. They had no idea to approach her, and she hadn't the faintest clue how to talk to them.<p>

Ron was the worst. And, as much as it hurt to admit to herself, she didn't like this world's version of Ron. He was distant, cold and seemed to have an odd fixation with Granger. And not just unrequited romantic feelings, either. Hermione didn't think she would have found it as alarming as she did had that been the case. There was just something about the way that Ron looked at Granger that shook her and, though she couldn't put her finger on it, the entire thing felt, well, _wrong_. She didn't voice these concerns out loud for obvious reasons- she imagined that there would be nobody here who would take what she said seriously. She was already an outsider, and deliberately putting her nose where it didn't belong was unlikely to further her cause.

To distract herself from her completely bizarre situation, Hermione took an active role in the upkeep of the house. This was slightly by choice, given that they wouldn't let her do anything else, but mostly it was out of desperation. She just needed to do something. Hiding in her "bedroom" would have been easy, but it reminded her of when she was on the run after Sixth Year, where they had wandered around aimlessly for months. It was an awful feeling and anything that was even remotely reminiscent of that set her on edge.

It was late when night when she couldn't sleep that she heard voices coming from outside. There was a male and female voice and they were arguing in what almost sounded like stage whispers.

"You revealed yourself after I expressly prohibited it," a male voice hissed, and Hermione instantly knew that it was Snape. She was shocked that he would come to Order Headquarters, of all places.

"We took a vote and that's what the outcome was. There were no negative consequences," said Granger. "I would not do anything foolish to endanger myself."

"And what do you plan to do with her?" Snape asked. The answer to this question was of great interest to Hermione (which was how she justified easing herself closer to the window so she didn't miss a word of the conversation.)

"I have a plan. It's still in the early stages, but I think that she could be of great help in defeating the False Minister."

"How so?"

"Well, she's me Severus."

Hermione couldn't see out the window and through the darkness, but she could just imagine Snape raising his eyebrow. "And what exactly are you planning to do?" he asked.

"Could imagine what I could do, if the Ministry thought that they had captured me? They wouldn't kill her outright Severus, well, not right away, at least. It would give us a chance to launch a surprise attack."

"I don't think that Miss Granger would agree to act as bait."

Granger gave a hallow laugh. "I wouldn't ask her permission Severus- there would be no need for her to know."

"That seems…unwise."

"Unwise? Risky, maybe, but we've been fighting this non-war for seven years. I want it to end. I have no qualms risking her life, mine or anyone's. This could give us an edge and I think we should consider it."

"That's not your choice to make." Hermione shivered at the sound of Snape's voice, trying desperately to keep calm. She could barely believe what she was hearing. What had happened to Granger to make her so cold and calculating and, well, heartless?

"It is late, we shall discuss strategy another time," said Snape, "perhaps when we have less people listening in on our conversation."

_Oh fuck, _Hermione thought, her muscles tensing as her body readied to flee. She didn't dare move though. Not yet. She reached for her wand, blood thundering in her ears, stomach dropping when she realized that she had left it in her cubby hole.

"Whose there?" Granger called sweetly. Hermione could hear her approaching, the soft footsteps loud in the early morning.

There was really nothing she, herself, could do, Hermione knew this. She could run, but it was unlikely that she could outrun both Snape and Granger. Aside from that, she was no coward. So Hermione did the only thing she could do, she stepped from the shadows and met Granger outside face to face.

They stared at each other impassively. Snape stood nearby, his wand gripped loosely in his hand, deceptively harmless looking.

"I'm assuming you heard most of what we said."

"That assumption would be correct."

"You realize that I can't have you remembering any of this."

"I know," Hermione said bitterly.

Granger raised her wand. "_Oblivate_."

* * *

><p>Snape watched with mixed feelings as his Hermione erased the girl's memory and then gently stunned her. He knew that he had done plenty of unforgivable things, but seeing such behaviour from a woman who short years ago had been filled with nothing but kindness unsettled him.<p>

The girl's body slumped to the ground, and Hermione sighed wistfully. "I miss my hair sometimes." She leaned down and touched the girl's wild locks, stroking an errant curl. The whole scene was disturbing to Snape, and he did something he rarely did. He looked away.

Hermione stood and gave him a small smile. "I will develop a plan with the others. Just think, Severus, this war could be over very soon."

The back of Snape's throat filled with bile, but he inclined his head in agreement. Doubt lingered in his mind, and for the first time he wondered if he was always destined to fall into the plots of madmen.


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter Eight _

It had been nearly a week since they had found Hermione's wand abandoned and Ron was not handling it well. He was not sleeping or eating and hadn't shown up for work since the day Hermione had disappeared. Harry was little better- with Ginny to keep him focused he had managed to get time off work and had done nothing other than chase down leads to his friend's whereabouts. He was in Kingsley's office in an attempt to get Hermione officially declared missing- something that the Ministry had been dragging its heels on.

"There are signs that this is a Magical Mishap and as I've said there are only several people who are qualified to look into such matters and this is just not high priority," said Kingsley, "I know that is not what you want to hear, but it's the truth."

"With all due respect Minister," said Harry, who had long ago learned to control his anger issues, but was feeling his patience growing thin, "Hermione was specifically working on a project you assigned her. I think that it is your responsibility to ensure that everything possible is being done to locate her."

"Like I said, it had been declared a Magical Mishap and we are working on the assumption that the harm has already been done. We could have dozens of our best witches and wizards working on this Harry, but the plain fact is, is that Hermione is likely dead or will turn up on her own eventually."

"That is the most ridiculous excuse for not doing anything that I've ever heard. And trust me when I say that I've heard them all."

Kingsley sighed. "If I were you, I would go home and spend some time with your family and not involve yourself in this. Take a rest. There's nothing to be done; I urge you to accept the very real possibility that your friend is beyond help. There's nothing to do now but wait."

* * *

><p>Hermione awoke with a groan. The throbbing in her head was so intense that sitting up was a struggle. She regretted it the moment she managed it; as soon as she was upright she felt nothing but an overwhelming urge to vomit. She dropped her body gracelessly back to the futon- not caring whether or not it would cause bruises.<p>

What had happened last night? She struggled to remember, but the entire thing was hazy. She vaguely recalled being restless and being unable to sleep. She had gotten up and then…_then what_? As if thinking through a fog she could picture herself leaving her small room and then there was nothing. She curled herself into a small ball and willed the pain to go away.

She wasn't sure how long she lay there, but figured it must have been awhile because eventually Ginny came to check on her. "Are you okay?" she asked, kneeling by Hermione, reaching a hand out to touch her forehead. "Shite, you're burning up."

Time seemed to slow. There was the sound of footsteps entering and leaving the room, the pressure of hands on her head, tilting her head back and cool liquid running down her throat. Then there was darkness.

Hermione's dreams were jumbled and confused. She was disoriented when she awoke again a few hours later; however the pain had mostly subsided.

"Well, you're still alive at least," said a familiar voice. "Am I?" she asked warily, not really in the mood for Ron's particular hostility.

"Here, you must be hungry," he said in a surprisingly neutral voice before helping her sit up against the wall and placing a bowl of broth in front of her.

"It's not poisoned is it?"

"Yes," Ron muttered, "We've spent the last eight hours trying to save your life only to kill you. You discovered our evil plan. How clever of you."

Hermione cringed. "Yes, I suppose I did deserve that." She took a sip of the soup (not without a great deal of effort and spillage as her hand was still not completely under her control.) "Thank you, by the way."

He didn't say anything; instead he cast a quick cleaning spill that siphoned away the mess she had made. She took that as a sign that she had been forgiven. "Do you know what happened to me?" she asked.

"Granger had a theory. She thinks that your body may finally be reacting to the stress of being in an alternate timeline. She is looking into the matter, but our resources are limited and your case is unique."

There was something off about Ron's delivery of this news. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. However, she was Hermione Granger and if there was one thing that she was spectacularly good at it was asking questions. "And what do you believe?"

Ron stayed silent. He seemed to be studying her intently. "It doesn't matter what I think." Hermione opened her mouth to tell him that it certainly did matter what he thought (thank you very much) but Ron must have sensed that that was coming because he said something that she had been hoping to hear.

"I think it's time we went for a walk."

* * *

><p>Despite immediately downing a vial of Dreamless Sleep upon returning to the castle- Severus Snape had found himself plagued by nightmares of <em>her<em>. Both of her. He had spent the night restless and had awoken both mentally and physically exhausted. That was not a state that was safe for him to be in. There were people watching and he must never forget that he was under a microscope.

Snape knew that he had to plan his next move carefully. This should have caused him little difficultly because he was by nature a very meticulous man. There was, however, the pressing concern that his main ally and current love interest was proving to be more than a little unhinged.

He sat at his desk for hours running all the possibilities through his head. The pros and cons. He considered just saying fuck it to the entire operation. He had everything he could possibly want. Why should he risk his life for the cause? He would get nothing out of it but scorn. Nobody liked a traitor—despite having the best of intentions (well, now, not so much thirty years ago. But he had been young and disenfranchised and _bloody fucking stupid_.) Whatever happened there would be no good ending for him. He had accepted his fate years ago. He had hoped that Hermione would, at the very least, go on to have something resembling a normal life, but seeing her sink into madness made that possibility a remote one.

He gave a sigh as he came to a course of action that he wasn't entirely happy with. It would have to suffice as it was the least morally reprehensible thing he could do. Now that he was decided he would have to stay firm. There was no turning back. He realized that Hermione would probably never forgive him, but that was okay. For once he just wanted his conscience to be clear.

* * *

><p>The forest outside the house managed to be both very overgrown and yet inexplicitly dead looking. Hermione shivered as she followed Ron with a growing sense of dread. She was unsure of where he was going; this was not turning out to be the short, relaxing walk she had thought. Instead she was feeling lost and uncomfortable and was once again questioning her decision making skills. Or rather the lack thereof.<p>

Ron stopped suddenly and spun around to face her. "We're here," in said, his voice not sounding exactly like his own. And then suddenly he wasn't Ron anymore. Hermione knew enough about Polyjuice Potion to recognize a transformation when she saw one (the fact that Ron's face looked to be slightly melting may have been a dead giveaway.)

Her muscles tensed and her entire body screamed at her to flee. Instead she did her best to temper her instincts and pointed her wand at the Ron impersonator until the transformation was complete. "Headmaster Snape, to what do I owe this pleasure?" she asked tersely.

"Is it really proper to greet a superior by aiming a wand at their throat?"

"I'm not sure. I'll let you know the next time I encounter one."

His facial expression didn't change, but Hermione thought she could see almost a glint in his eyes. "What's your patronus?" she asked, to ensure his identity. Which would have been a prudent step before following him into the woods, but Hermione chalked that up to her illness (and her aforementioned lack of decision making skills.) Considering her error could have likely been a fatal one she was invested in not repeating it.

His face was grim. "A doe," he said, with his characteristic lack of emotion.

Hermione stepped back. "I assume you did all this for a reason?"

"I can't very well be seen around here. It would after all be suicide. I would not be here at all if I did not consider it of the upmost importance." Snape reached into his robes and pulled out a small black box. He offered to Hermione and she took it with a bit more hesitation than he would have liked.

"What's this?" she asked.

"That, Miss Granger contains the truth. All of it." She looked up at him then.

"Why are you giving me this now?"

"Like I said, the answer is inside the box. Use the information as you will and remember: trust no one." And with that he became little more than a blur and then was gone. Hermione stood puzzled as to what the entire encounter was about. And if she had any thoughts about Severus Snape's kindness they were gone at the realization that he had abandoned her in the middle of the forest. And as soon as _that_ thought entered her head the portkey located on the box activated and Hermione found herself safely (if a bit shaky on her feet) only meters away from the safe house.

"That man is _insufferable."_


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter 9_

Lying on her thin futon, Hermione Granger realized just how long seven years truly was. It seemed that the first eighteen years of her life had been endless. She had spent large portions of that time afraid and almost certain that she was going to die. The final battle was a huge turning point in her life, but for all the death, destruction and change it had brought the actual memory of it was hazy. She wasn't sure if it was a wilful forgetting or if the stress had interfered with her inability to retain events in her normal way. Maybe, her difficultly recollecting was just the passage of time. Regardless, she was hesitant to examine that dark and hopeless period with any scrutiny- though she knew that if she hoped to navigate this world with any success she really didn't have much of a choice.

She held the box that Snape had given her. She didn't understand his motivations or what he hoped to accomplish. Oh sure, she knew generally he would like to see the government overthrown, but what he specifically wanted was much harder to figure out. She knew that he had loved Lily- had committed his life to protecting Harry despite his obvious dislike. But Harry was dead in this world and Snape had failed his mission. There was really no reason left for him to risk his safety and wellbeing when he could live out the rest of his life comfortably as Headmaster of Hogwarts. She wouldn't blame him for doing just that. Some would have viewed the move as cowardly, even callous, but Hermione could see that there were no good choices to be made. It was live with the oppressive status quo or war. And no one wanted war.

Hermione waited until it was late before she felt certain she could open the box without being discovered. She cast a few protective spells just in case- nothing too powerful because on the off chance that someone did interrupt her she didn't want them to suspect that she was doing something that she decidedly shouldn't be. The box opened with a soft click. At first, Hermione couldn't see anything except for a soft glow. After her eyes adjusted she saw that there was a vial inside filled with a white luminous substance. She gasped before she picked it up and held it to eye level to examine it. If she was not mistaken (and she knew for a fact that she was _not_) these were the memories of one Severus Snape. She gently laid it down and picked up the only other object in the box – knowing without a doubt that it was a shrunken Pensieve.

"So, I guess I'm about to learn the truth," Hermione said. Or, Severus Snape's version of the truth, at least. She took a deep breath and released it slowly willing her nervousness to subside. She enlarged the Pensieve and poured the memories in; losing their glow and becoming cloudy as they diffused. "Now or never," she muttered as she smooth her hair back from her face and dipped her head forward.

* * *

><p>Hermione knew instantly that she was in the Shrieking Shack despite the fact that both her eyes were firmly shut. Gathering her courage she opened them to see Snape standing before Voldemort.<p>

"The battle is going well, My Lord. The resistance is crumbling," said Snape. Hermione's gaze strayed to just beyond him, where an old crate lay next to the opening. Her stomach clenched at the thought that Ron, Harry and some alternate version of herself were standing right there.

"And it is doing so without your help," hissed Voldemort in return. The exchange was familiar, and though she didn't know the exact phrasing, she knew how this conversation would play out.

Her eyes strayed to the Elder Wand. It was such a small thing that held so much power and caused so much destruction. She wondered if the Voldemort of this world had realized that Snape was not its Master at all. Perhaps that was why he was still alive? Hermione's hypothesis turned out to be flawed as the scene played out as she remembered it. Though seeing it from this angle she realized that Snape, in spite of his desperate pleading, seemed resigned to the fact that he was going to die.

Voldemort swished his wand. There was a second of stillness before the snake's cage elevated in the air and flew toward Snape. And then, seemingly without reason, it stopped mere millimetres away from Snape's face.

And then there was fire everywhere. _Fiendfyre, _was Hermione's first and only thought. She wanted to run, to escape, but quelled the instinct. She was safe. This was just a memory. Nothing bad would happen to her._ Probably_.

Harry, Ron and Granger emerged from under the cloak. Hermione could tell from the ashen look on Harry's face and the furious one on Granger's that neither of them was very pleased with this turn of events and were likely not responsible for the current choas. The fact that fire still peppered out from Ron's wand was also a dead giveaway.

"An, Severus, it seems that you have a momentary reprieve," Voldemort said, his eyes fixed on Harry. "I have more pressing things to deal with at present."

"You thought that I would come and here I am," said Harry. He looked painfully thin after months of being on the run and his green eyes looked so very haunted. Flames were licking around them while smoke curled around their limbs.

Hermione was at an absolute lost as to how anyone had survived this.

And then the fighting started. Harry and Voldemort flung a few spells back and forth toward each other; more like a warm-up then an actual fight to the death. Snape, on the other hand, had gone straight for Ron. Hermione followed after them, the smoke making it difficult to see. "You idiotic boy," Snape snapped at Ron, grabbing his wand from his hand. "I should kill you where you stand." But despite the words, Snape took advantage of Voldemort's distraction. He knocked Ron unconscious and then transfigured him into a small weasel which he promptly stuffed into his pocket. He then did the same to Granger who had been too busy trying to control the fire to react to Snape's attack in time.

Snape then did the impossible. He took Ron's wand and performed a non-verbal spell. The fiendfyre lessened around them, but didn't disappear completely. In fact, the fire around the snake appeared to grow brighter and stronger. Snape was trying to kill Nagini, and by the way Voldemort stumbled, he seemed to have succeeded.

Now it was just Harry and Voldemort. Hermione didn't understand why had Harry lost this; he was after all Master of the Elder wand. In a fight of such magic he had the advantage. But then Voldemort opened that mouth of his, "it seems that your friends didn't survive, Potter."

Harry whipped himself around, his eyes fixing on Snape's solitary figure; his long pale fingers still holding Ron's wand. Assuming the worst, Harry let out an inhuman wail and charged forward. Hermione couldn't bear to look yet couldn't turn her gaze away. One moment Voldemort had his wand raised and then the next Harry was on the ground covered with blood. Voldemort hadn't used the killing spell; instead he used one that inflicted physical damage. There was no coming back from the dead with that kind of magic.

Voldemort promptly fell to his knees. "I have done it Severus. I have killed the boy-who-lived."

And at the very moment that Hermione was positive she was going to retch her guts up, the scene faded.

* * *

><p>There were very few things that Harry hadn't gotten the hang of. Sitting quietly and doing nothing was one of those things. He fumed silently at Kingsley's dismissal. After all, Hermione had risked her life to defeat Voldemort- they all had. Without her help Kingsley wouldn't likely even be <em>alive<em>, let alone _Minister for Magic_. Harry knew that he had to help Hermione, but he also knew that he didn't have the shear intellect that such an undertaking would require. But he knew someone who did. And that someone owed him a favour. A big one, at that.

He just hoped to Merlin that Ron never found out.

* * *

><p>AN: Well, I disappeared off the face of the earth. Sorry about that. I have no intentions of abandoning this story, so I hope you guys continue to read and review! As always this story is unbeta'd so if you see any mistakes feel free to point them out. Thanks again for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

_Chapter 10_

The sick feeling was never going away, of that Hermione was certain. She couldn't stand to watch another second of Snape's memories. _But you have to_, insisted a voice in her head. Snape had risked a lot to bring them to her and she owed him her life. As the world around her reformed and solidified she decided to stay, though she felt ill and unsure.

She was in the house on Spinner's end this time. Granger and Ron both lay on unconscious on a dingy grey bed while Snape loomed over them. Aside from small, albeit nasty-looking, burns on his hands, he seemed uninjured. His face, though unharmed, looked pinched and white. His movements were slow and he practically radiated his fatigue.

"_Rennervate_," said Snape as he pointed his wand towards the two bodies on the bed. Granger stirred first, whimpering as she attempted to sit up. Ron was came into consciousness more slowly, but the moment he was fully awake he was on his feet and crouched in a defensive position.

"Good evening Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley. I am sure you are confused and out of sorts, but I ask you to give me a moment to explain recent… events."

"_You murdering_ _bastard_," shrieked Ron, running toward Snape in an attempt to tackle him. Snape cast a quick _stupefy_ and Ron was once again out cold.

Granger was now completely alert. She was watching Snape with a weary look in her eyes. "Where's Harry?" her voice was small.

"Mr. Potter was unfortunately no match for the Dark Lord," was Snape's curt answer.

Granger squeezed her eyes tight, her hands fisted in her hair as if she was willing everything to go away. She stayed like that for a few minutes that seemed to drag on forever. The look on her face broke Hermione's heart. No wonder the Granger and Ron of this world were so cold and different. She couldn't even imagine what losing Harry would have been like.

"What happened?" Granger asked. "Why is it that Ron and I are still alive?"

"I failed, Miss Granger. That is what happened. I failed to keep him safe and now he is dead. I managed to save the two of you and now you have work to do."

"Why would you even bother? You've got what you wanted," said Granger bitterly.

"I know you're more intelligent than that. I never wanted this." With that, a silver doe shot from the end of Snape's wand. "I swore to protect him. I trust that you understand." Their gazes locked. Comprehension dawned in Granger's eyes.

"One day I will explain everything, but for now I have to ask: Do you trust me?"

After a brief hesitation Granger nodded. "I have nothing left to lose by trusting you."

Snape looked like he disagreed, but he stayed silent on that point. "And Mr. Weasley? Do you think he will be as amendable?"

Granger gave a shocked laugh. "No, I think that we should probably keep this a secret from Ron in the meantime."

"If you think that best."

"I do." And with those words the scene shifted again. Hermione found herself standing in some section of Hogwarts castle, but she couldn't instantly identify which part. It was clearly a bedroom, but it was decorated in plain black and white instead of any of the House colours. Snape and Granger were the only people present. It mustn't have been too long since the previous memory because Granger still looked relatively unchanged.

"And things are going well?" Snape asked.

"They are. We've located Neville and Ginny. Unfortunately, Neville isn't in great shape. He's alive, but we're unsure he'll survive."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Mr. Longbottom would be a great asset."

Granger blinked up at Snape owlishly. "I can never tell if you're joking."

Hermione had rarely seen Snape lose his composure, but he lost it then. "How dare you," he hissed, spittle bubbling from his lips, "I am many things Miss Granger, but I am not a monster. I take no pleasure in seeing a student of mine on the edge of death."

Granger cowed away from him. "I'm sorry, I just thought…"

"It is very clear what you thought." He turned on his heel then, his black cloak fanning around him like wings. And then he was gone from the room.

Again, the world changed and Hermione found herself in the same place, though it was slightly darker.

Granger was lying on the bed keening with what sounded like pain. The pillows around her head looked black and slick, with what Hermione could only assume was blood.

Snape was sitting nearby, frantically doing spell work. Eventually, his actions became less urgent and finally he said, "The worst had passed. You're in no danger of dying. Though, you will likely be in pain for quite a while."

Granger turned her head toward him, her cries lessening. Hermione couldn't help the shocked gasp that escaped her lips. Granger's face was covered with angry looking wounds, some of which looked like they were still bleeding. Hermione had seen the scars, but hadn't given much thought to how Granger had received them. Before she could take a closer look she found herself outside in the Forbidden Forest.

"Is it safe?" Granger asked. This time her hair was short and spiky looking.

"The full moon is past," responded Snape.

"That does very little to answer my question."

"Safer than normal, then." Granger gave a little harrumph, causing Snape to smile. But only for a second.

"I assume you know why I wanted to meet." This was from Granger.

"You want to know if the rumours are true."

"And are they?"

Snape nodded. Granger's face broke into a huge grin. "I can't believe this." She clapped her hands as an excited child might. "Oh, I can't believe it. Finally!"

"We can't celebrate yet. It's been less than a year, but the Dark Lord's forces are entrenched. His death does not change anything."

"But it gives us a chance! It's more than we had before!"

"Yes, but the Dark Lord has been sickly for months. He was the figurehead, but he was not the one with the true power. Henry Greengrass will succeed as Minister. He's a nasty piece of work."

Hermione startled. _Henry Greengrass_? She knew that he was a rotten person, but she would have never have guessed that he was that bad. Okay, she would have, but only because she had a hard time seeing the good in everyone. Living through a war could do that to a person.

"So what do we do now Severus?"

"We do what we have been doing. _We fight_."

And then Hermione was back in the bedroom at Hogwarts. It was dark save for a small lit candle next to the bed. She walked toward the light in order to see better and glimpsed Snape lying there awake, eyes half lidded. The surprising thing, however, was that his right arm wrapped around a sleeping Granger. Their nakedness was covered only with a single sheet. Hermione's breath hitched and her stomach clenched. She has suspected that there was something between the two of them, but seeing such proof was overwhelming.

Not wanting to see anything she shouldn't (keeping in mind that Snape had_ given_ her this memory) she closed her eyes. When she opened them, she was again in Spinner's End. Snape stood in the living room. He looked over toward where she was standing and inclined his head. Almost as if he could see her there. But that was impossible; this was just a memory and nothing more. Snape removed a book from the shelf and then fished something from his robes. He held it up quickly. Hermione saw a flash of gold before he placed the object in the book before returning it to its usual spot.

And then the scene shifted again and Hermione gasped in horror as she saw Granger plot her downfall and then erase her memory. "I thought you should know the truth," said Snape's disembodied voice and moments later she was ejected from the Pensieve. She gasped for breath and, with her arms flailing wildly, she fell backwards onto the floor.

It felt like it took forever, but eventually Hermione regained her composure. She worked quickly then to hide any evidence of Snape's betrayal of Granger. She didn't know why he wanted to warn her, but she was thankful that he had. When that was done, she attempted to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes she thought of his relationship with Granger. And she wondered if such a relationship would ever have developed in her world if Snape had lived. She thought not, but some part of her felt regretful that she had never even been given the chance.


	11. Chapter 11

_Chapter 11_

It had been a quiet week. The weather had not been dreadful for once; the skies were blue, the air was warm and (most importantly) there was a strange lack of rain. The students and teachers had all been abnormally well-behaved (meaning that nothing had blown up too dramatically and no one had been turned into something they decidedly shouldn't be). A normal person would have likely found the entire thing _relaxing_. For one Severus Snape, however, the past several days had been anything but.

He sat at his desk, tapping his fingers impatiently, his eyes fixed firmly on nothing. _Why hasn't Hermione contacted me? _The worst thing wasn't that the lack of communication. The worst thing was that there were two Hermiones and he was being ignored by the _both _of them. One was a woman with which he had spent the last seven years building a relationship with. The other was a woman to which he had just bared his soul too.

Snape snorted that even a wisp of such sentimental drivel had entered his head. He chalked it up to the pint of firewhisky he had (discreetly, of course) consumed during dinner. He could never get away with that sort of thing when Minerva had been around. Feeling his mood taking a rather sour and melancholy turn, he decided to focus his attention on other things.

He retrieved a blank piece of parchment from his desk and picked up a quill. Snape, of course, had not been idle. He was not a person who could ever completely stop the gears in his mind from working. For past week he had taken an interest in Hermione's improvised Time-Turner. It looked like it should work and he knew that Hermione had a spectacular mind. This was all well and good, but it put him at a lost as to what must have gone wrong.

Hunching over his desk, Snape gave a little sigh. He was very nearly stumped (not that he would admit that to anyone. He was known for being able to keep a secret or two). He recognized that he should probably just ask Hermione what she had done, but he knew that he could not. His felt a twinge of conscience as he recalled Hermione's adamant insistence that he return her Time-Turner because she was sure that just one spin would bring her back home.

And Snape, well, he couldn't just let _that_ happen. Hermione had been lucky. She could have easily killed herself or ended up in a place that was even worse than this one. She was emotional and scared and he had made a split decision to get _that_ idea out of her head. It had been easy enough (she had still been tied to that chair, after all.) And it had worked well. Too well. It would probably never occur to her that she could make an attempt to get home on her own.

That hadn't been the only reason he had done it. Snape was a selfish man and when he saw Hermione he had not acted as rationally as he would have liked. It might have been the busy hair or the smooth face or her wide trusting eyes, but he couldn't just let her go. And now everything was about to go to hell and he had to do everything in his power to fix it.

* * *

><p>Hermione felt energized. She knew the truth now and she felt that she really ought to do something with it. She could not and would not let Granger pull the wool over her eyes anymore. She would not be a sacrificial lamb! She would stand up and fight against anyone who wished to harm her or use her for their own ends!<p>

Of course, that was easier said than done. For the last week Granger had been watching her like a hawk. Hermione knew that her every movement was being scrutinized and analysed until she felt like she couldn't even eat a bloody bowl of cereal without being watched for an ulterior motive. Granger wasn't the only one keeping an eye on her. No, she popped into and out of headquarters far too often for her to do proper surveillance by herself. Neville, Ginny and Ron, however, were more than capable of picking up the slack. Hermione was even given a new room (one she shared with Ginny and Neville which was awkward, to say the least) so she didn't even have the closet for privacy. To make matters worse, she was never, ever left alone in the house.

Which was frustrating. Snape had shown her a memory of him hiding something. Hermione knew that it was there for a good reason. And she would have loved nothing more than to march right over to the bookshelf and retrieve the object. But she couldn't. Instead she listened as Neville describde the garden he was building out back and how it was very difficult to make things grow and, oh, would she like some fresh carrots with her meal?

And she would smile and say that she would love nothing more and then wonder if she could knock him unconscious and then felt guilty for even thinking it. Neville, at the very least, seemed apologetic about his role in guarding her. Ginny was worse, but she was still far preferable to Ron, who seemed to hold a grudge against everyone and everything. He seemed to have some sort of romantic feelings for Granger, but it was far too tainted with resentment for Hermione to ever call it love. And that resentment seemed to multiply itself whenever Ron would deign to talk to her.

And all that was bad enough. Then there came was the day that he asked for her wand. She had been sitting in the kitchen munching on some freshly sliced carrots when Ron entered and, without even looking at her, said, "I need you to return that wand."

Hermione's first and strongest instinct was to say "No." But she refrained, aware more than ever that she was at their mercy. "I suppose so," she said as casually as she could, "any particular reason?"

"It's none of your business."

"Oi, Ron. Stop being churlish," said George, who had followed behind him. "There's been an incident and Granger has lost her wand. We'd hate to ask, but it's an emergency and we'll return it as soon as we can."

She didn't believe it for a second.

George may have been telling the truth, but she didn't trust him or anyone. It's was a strange feeling to have your enemies and your friends wearing the same faces. Hermione knew her best chance was the path of least resistance. "Here," she said, holding it out to them, knowing there was very little chance that she would ever see it again. But if she fought them now, she was sure she would lose. She knew that she could never seriously harm these people, but she was quiet sure that they wouldn't hold back.

"Thanks," said George, taking it from her. He looked apologetic, and Ron remained stoic. "We'll fill you in later, but for now we really have to go. Granger needs back-up."

After that they left quickly and for the first time since viewing Snape's memories she was alone. Acting quickly, she hurried from the kitchen to the living room. Her eyes were instantly drawn to the red book from the memory. She reached out to grab it, but stopped herself when her fingers were just a hairsbreadth away from the spine. She knew that she should be more cautious, but without her wand there was very little she could do. She had worked on her wandless magic but, much like resisting Veritaserum, it had become less critical, less pressing after the war.

Still, Hermione closed her eyes and concentrated. There didn't seem to be any enchantments around the book and there was no feeling that she was being observed by anyone. She took a risk and grabbed the book. Opening it slowly, Hermione noticed that the interior was hollowed out and inside rested a Galleon. She knew what it was instantly and felt relief. Apparently Snape had no intentions of abandoning her (not that she ever seriously believed that he would. Okay, she _suspected_ that he might.)Instead, he had provided her with a quick, easy means of communication. Knowing she didn't have a lot of time, Hermione sent her first message. It was one word but she considered it terrifying enough for Snape to spring into action.

_Wandless._

* * *

><p>The man flipped through the pages. His fingers long and pale, more so than Harry remembered.<p>

"And what is it you want me to do exactly, Potter?"

"I thought that was evident."

Draco's movements halted. "You want me to help find Granger?"

Harry nodded.

"I'm surprised that you would come to me with such a task."

"You weren't my first choice," Harry deadpanned.

"And why exactly should I help you?"

"You know why."

"Yes, but I thought that was something that you did out of the goodness of your heart. Not as a favour to be returned."

"I highly doubt you thought that for a second, Malfoy."

Draco then did something that he very rarely did. He laughed. "And right you are."

"So you will help?"

Draco shrugged. "I'm not sure how much I can do, but I can try. And you know that I can't make promises on behalf of someone else."

"No, but I know that you two work together well and have accomplished some incredible things. I also know that you're quite fond of taking all the credit."

Draco shrugged. "That's the way it is."

"And you'll keep me informed of everything you do."

"Within reason. Probably not the things that border on the illegal."

Harry couldn't help his mouth from twisting into a smirk. "Agreed." He stood then and headed for the door, stopping before his hand touched the doorknob. "And Malfoy?"

"Yes, Potter?"

"Thank you."


	12. Chapter 12

_Chapter 12_

She arrived in his chambers just after midnight, a small knowing smile on her face. "Oh, Severus," she gushed, which instantly put Snape on high alert. The Hermione he knew wasn't the gushing type. "I have the most wonderful news."

"You shouldn't be here," he said, keeping his voice as calm as he could. She hadn't warned him that she was coming. He hadn't taken any precautions. On top of that, she had come directly to his sleeping quarters and not their usual meeting room, catching him off guard. He did not like to be caught off guard.

"I know," she said, "but I wouldn't have come if it wasn't important."

He raised his eyebrows. "Important enough to jeopardise everything we've worked for with your carelessness?" He could feel his stomach clench. It wasn't like her. Not at all.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Severus, I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned it, but you do tend toward the melodramatic."

He opened his mouth to respond, but words failed him. He _certainly_ didn't like it when words failed him. Aside from his wand (and cunning intellect, of course) words happened to be his greatest weapon. It irritated Snape to no end that this woman could leave him speechless. It was one of the many reasons he thought that he could love her, if he were the type of individual to let himself fall in love. Again.

And yet, he found it difficult to explain his relationship with Hermione to himself. He admired her kindness and her ferociousness, but he didn't think he could endure her emerging "For the Greater Good" mentality. It was a side of her that he didn't like to see and yet, he knew he was being hypocritical given his own less than lustrous ethics. It was frustrating because she was supposed to be _better_ than he was. In the entire time he had known her she had been so infuriatingly upright and virtuous that he had hated her on principle alone. Now, however, she was so stuck on fixing the tragedies of the past that she was willing to do anything and harm anyone in order to accomplish her goals.

"And what is it that you've come all this way to tell me?" he asked. Snape had a general idea, but he needed to hear it from Hermione's own mouth. He had been hoping against hope that Hermione would not actually go ahead with her plan to use Ms. Granger as bait. However, he knew that was unlikely given that the Order had revoked her wand.

The grin that Hermione gave him portended nothing good. "Halloween," she said as she leaned up to kiss him,"we take back the Ministry."

* * *

><p>"Does he have to be here?"<p>

Draco raised his eyebrows. "He insisted."

"_He _doesn't like to be talked about as if _he _isn't here," said Harry, not even bothering to look up from his Quidditch magazine.

"Yes," agreed Draco, "he really doesn't like that."

Snape snorted. And while a normal person would have probably been offended, Harry knew well enough by now that that was just Snape's version of laughter. It was odd, Harry reflected, having that sort of camaraderie with Snape, but that's exactly what had developed over the last seven years. It's the sort of thing that one would expect after helping save a person's life. Even Snape's (excepting that one time with Sirius, but Harry could understand why that never exactly blossomed into friendship).

"And this was everything?" Snape asked, referring to the piles upon piles of parchment on his desk.

"Yes, that was everything that Ron and I could find of Hermione's work. I know that you haven't had much time, but can you make any sense of it?"

"Since Ms. Granger was as meticulous as ever in preparing her notes I can tell you with great certainty that she managed to bugger it up completely. Though that seems to be a pattern of hers."

Harry opened his mouth to refute this, but before he had a chance Snape said, "Do you remember the Polyjuice Potion?"

Harry snapped his mouth shut and nodded. "Well, Potter, she managed to correctly brew a very complex potion. And yet, overlooked something very small but very important and is now facing the consequences of that decision."

"I see," said Harry.

"What about Polyjuice Potion?" asked Draco. Harry and Snape both remained silent on the issue. "Fine, don't tell me. I don't want to know."

The magazine was now crushed in Harry's hands. "Can you help her?"

"It will be very dangerous. Time is not something that should be meddled with easily. And Potter," said Snape, fixing Harry with that dark gaze of his, "there is no guarantee that Ms. Granger is even alive."

"I know that," said Harry. And he did, but he refused to think that was the case. Hermione was a survivor and wherever or whenever she had ended up, he had no doubt that she could make it though and return home.

"We will have to do it soon though."

"How soon?" asked Harry.

"Halloween," said Snape, "the day has certain magical properties that we can take advantage of. The barrier between life and death and time becomes blurrier and easier to navigate. We increase our chance of success if we do it then."

"That gives us a day and a half," said Draco.

Snape nodded. "We need to start making our preparations now. Potter we'll need access to Hogwarts, can you arrange that? And you mentioned that she left behind her wand? Get that too."

"I can manage that."

"Draco, we'll also need some rare potions ingredients. I've most of them, but there's several you'll have to find."

"No problem. Is there anything else that I can do?"

"Yes," said Snape, "you can both get the hell out of my house and let me get to work."

* * *

><p>Hermione was certain that she was going to die. This was because Granger had told her straight out that her death was all part of the plan.<p>

"Now, Hermione," Granger had said after placing her in a full-body bind. "I don't want you to think of this as a punishment. You haven't done anything wrong."

_Well good_, Hermione replied sarcastically. In her head, of course, because her jaw was frozen shut. She could make noises with her throat, but it was a sharp keening sound that made her feel pathetic. And she really didn't any help in that department. So it was sarcastic comments in her head or nothing.

"Are you sure about this?" asked George. "You have her wand, she's helpless."

"Yeah," agreed Neville, "I don't think keeping her bound like this is necessary."

"And I say it is." Granger turned to face them. "I know her mind better than anyone. She is dangerous. Halloween is tomorrow. It could very well be our last chance to set things right. I'm not going to risk all that for the comfort of a girl who is day away from death."

"I think you're making the right call Granger."

_Thanks, Ginny. I love you too,_ Hermione thought as Granger levitated her to the bed. This was a slight improvement in the same way that nine bee stings are better than ten.

"We can't spare the manpower to guard her. Each of you has your role to play and it is critical that our plan succeed." Granger turned to leave the room. Ginny and Ron followed without comment, but George and Neville hesitated. "We all agreed to this plan," said Granger stopping in her tracks, "it is not a nice plan, but it is a necessary one. We're all risking our lives for the greater good. If there was any other path to peace we would take it, but there isn't. Unless you fellows have come up with something?"

Both George and Neville stayed silent. Hermione knew that silence could be ominous, but she didn't realize just how much. She could feel her heart beating erratically in her chest as she waited for one of them to say something. Anything.

"What about the original plan?" asked George finally. "She doesn't have to die."

"You know why the plan has changed. There can be no peace while the leader of the resistance is still alive. Hermione Granger has to die," said Granger calmly. "It is either me or her. If you feel so strongly about it, let me know and I'll take her place."

The silence returned more pressing than ever. "That's what I thought," said Granger.

They left after that. Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or cry (though in reality she couldn't do either even if she wanted.) She thought back to when they had taken her wand and she knew that bad things were going to happen. But there is very little a person can do to prepare being trapped and eventually killed.

Hermione thought of Snape and his response to her warning. _Don't resist. Have plan. Trust me. _Could she trust him? She really didn't have a choice, and yet she found that she wasn't as upset by the turn of events as she could have been. That's not to say that she wasn't furious, but something deep inside her was calm. Hermione Granger had no intention of dying. She had Snape to help her. Even better, they had left her with one of her strongest weapons. Her mind.

She would survive this. She would return home and see Ron and Harry again. She would return to her life and leave this world behind. And somewhere along the way she would manage to set everything right.


	13. Chapter 13

_Chapter 13_

It was an uncharacteristically bright, sunny day. Hermione knew this because no one had bothered to close the curtains and the early morning light was shining directly on her face. The worst part was that she was still frozen so there was nothing that she could do about it.

Well, actually, that was a lie. The moment that the light had become bright enough, her eyes had snapped open and the curtains had whooshed closed. Her entire body was tingling with energy. And though, to Hermione's great relief, the curtains effectively blocked out the sun she knew that they could not stayed closed.

She took a deep breath (well, as deep as the binding spell would allow) and concentrated. Eventually, she was able was able to close the curtains inch by creeping inch. By the end of it, she felt drained. Yet, the entire incident raised her spirits. It seemed that wandless magic was easier to use if she was in great danger (or, apparently, if she was mildly inconvenienced). It wasn't much, but it was something. And something was all that she needed.

* * *

><p>"You're hardly ready for tonight," said Hermione, taking in Snape's tired appearance.<p>

"I did not sleep well."

She frowned at him. "I can see that."

Snape did not want her here and yet, did not want her to leave. It was his Hermione's last night as something other than a cold blooded-killer. Oh, he knew that she wasn't an innocent. He was there, after all, the night that she had struck down one Dolores Umbridge. The difference was, was that horrid, old toad had deserved it completely. Miss Granger, on the other hand, decidedly didn't.

"You are sure that this is the plan that you want to follow?" he asked. He knew the answer, but wanted to hear her justify it one more time.

"There is no choice, Severus."

"There's always a choice."

Hermione scowled at him. "And the night you killed Dumbledore? Was that a choice?"

Anger washed over him in waves. "Yes," he bit out, each word sharp in his mouth, "it was a choice." It had been. Not an easy one, but an essential one. Snape did not like the comparison that she was making.

Surprisingly, this mollified her. "Well, yes," she said, leaning back against the wall, "it is a choice I'm making. Not an easy choice, but sometimes sacrifices are necessary." Her eyes flicked to his, and she held his gaze. There was something about her brown eyes that undid him completely.

"Hermione," he said, softer this time, the fury gone from his voice. "It destroyed me, and in the end accomplished nothing."

"I'm fully aware of the consequences. I understand that this might not work. The pieces have to fall into place very carefully."

"And what about your soul?" He had asked that question once of himself, and thought that it was fair to ask it of her as well.

"She will not die by my wand," Hermione answered simply. "My soul will be fine."

Snape doubted that very much. If her current behaviours were dictated by an intact soul, he did not want to see her behaviour when her soul was in tatters. But he kept his mouth shut. There was nothing to gain by arguing any further, and plenty to lose.

"Forgive me," he said, "I overstep myself."

She smiled then, and he almost believed that she meant it. "Severus, has there had a time when you haven't overstepped yourself?" And then she laughed, before stepping toward him and going in for a kiss.

* * *

><p>They had everything they needed. Or so Snape assured them. And by "assured", Harry meant that Snape had looked down that giant nose of his and sneered, "No, Potter, I called everyone here early so that we could chat about the weather."<p>

Harry took it as a good sign that Snape had managed to keep his sense of humour. Harry knew that when there was something wrong, Snape would turn serious and generally give sincere, albeit, one- word responses. The fact that he was making jokes, meant, at the very least, nothing had gone terribly wrong. Yet.

"I don't understand why we had to meet here," said a sulking Draco, referring to the fact that they were standing on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"Still scared, Malfoy?" asked Harry, with evil sounding chuckle.

Draco glared in response.

"Now, now children," interjected Snape, "this isn't the time to bring up old animosity."

Harry had the good sense to look appropriately sheepish. "Sorry," he mumbled, and Draco nodded his head in acknowledgment.

"Why are we _here_?" asked Draco.

"Well, Draco, I can't exactly walk through the front doors of the castle, now can I?"

"That isn't an answer," Harry pointed out.

"Very good, Potter. We're here because there is a hidden passageway that will take us right into the castle, by the Potion's Classroom."

"There's no passageway around here," said Harry looking around quizzically.

"I am fully aware about your familiarity with Hogwarts' secret entrances, but this one happens to be more secret than the others."

"Oh?" Draco raised his eyebrows. "Why is that?"

"Because," said Snape, "I am the one who built it."

This raised many more questions than it answered, but Harry could tell by the dark look that crossed Snape's face that the conversation was over. Snape did not like to talk about his year as Headmaster, and mentioned it rarely, obliquely and only when there was no other choice.

Since there was nothing else to be said, the two men followed Snape to the base of a large White Willow. Snape tapped his wand on the bark in a seemingly random fashion, but it did the trick. Moments later a door appeared, and they entered it one at a time.

The walk was not a long one, but the dark was pressing despite the light that lit up the end of their wands. When they reached a dead end, Snape placed his hand on the wall. "I command you to open." The wall swung outward, and the three of them barely had time to step outside before it rapidly shut again.

Harry looked back and was unsurprised that the secret passageway was guarded by the portrait of the Bloody Barron. It was a good choice considering that the portrait was likely to be loyal to Snape and very few others.

"There shouldn't be anyone here," said Harry, "I spoke to Professor Mcgonagall and told her than we needed the room in order to find Hermione."

"I'm sure that she was more than accommodating," Snape said dryly. She had been- from what Harry could see the entire Hogwarts dungeon was deserted. They entered the classroom and found it to be just as abandoned as the hallway.

Snape started to set his equipment immediately. "There is very little time. The potion will take several hours to brew, and time is of the essence. Draco, I will need your help preparing ingredients, and Potter I'll need you to sit quietly in the corner and try not to bugger everything up."

Harry couldn't even be insulted. This was too important to let anything pride get in the way. He knew that Snape and Draco were more than capable. If the best thing he could do was to stay out of the way, then that's exactly what he would do.

Time passed slowly and Harry could feel it getting darker outside despite the fact that there were no windows. Eventually, Snape spoke. "It is finished." Harry jumped from his seat and rushed over to see the finished product.

"It looks just like sand," he said in amazement, as his brain processed the thing that Snape and Draco had created. There was no sarcastic remark about pointing out the obvious, and for that Harry was grateful.

Snape then took out a nearly intact Time-Turner. "I just have to add a small portion of this potion and then I should be able to follow Miss Granger."

Draco picked up on the wording before Harry did. "What do you mean 'I'?"

"I am, of course, going by myself."

"You can't do that," sputtered Harry, his indignation rising.

"I encourage you to reassess your need to be a hero Potter," said Snape.

"My _need_ to be a hero saved the world, not to mention _your life_…"

"Watch the dramatics, Potter. You have a lot more to lose now. You too, Draco."

Harry looked at Draco who looked like he was considering the truth of this statement. He knew that Draco, like himself, had recently become a father. Harry thought of Ginny and little James Sirius, and he knew that Snape was right.

"You're willing to risk your life for Hermione?" Harry asked.

"I owe you a life debt," said Snape, fixing his dark eyes on Harry. "I consider this to be repayment of that debt."

Harry sensed his magic respond to Snape's words, and felt the very truth of it in his bones. "Okay," said Harry, sealing the bond. Now, there was no turning back.

Snape nodded and then finished the preparations. He took a drink of Polyjuice and Harry watched as his former Potion's Professor morphed into a small, helpless child, in a puddle of black robes. Snape changed quickly into more appropriately sized clothing.

"Hand me Miss Granger's wand," said Snape, and it was disconcerting to hear that deep voice from such a small body. Harry quickly complied, and Snape nodded his head in satisfaction. "If this does not work, then I promise you Potter, Draco, nothing will. No good will come from either of you following. Do you understand?"

"Yes," they answered at the same time, and Harry could tell that they both had doubts. He knew that Snape knew, but the man stayed silent.

"It is ready," said Snape, holding the completed Time-Turner, in his hands. And with that he spun it.

Then he was gone and there was nothing to do but wait.

* * *

><p>Hermione had left, leaving Snape alone with his thoughts. He knew that he had a role to play, and he would play it and ultimately be labelled a traitor. He closed his eyes, and hoped that he was making the right choice.<p>

He could, after all, betray Miss Granger…

But, no. He had urged her to trust him, and he would not break that trust lightly.

And then he felt it. It was subtle, just a twinge of something. He paused in his pacing, and then ran quickly to his desk to where he had placed the Marauder's Map. He flung it open and scanned it at a rapid pace. It took a few seconds, but he found the anomaly.

It wasn't hard to miss, for on the map, there was not one, but two Severus Snapes.

* * *

><p>AN: Nope, this story is still not abandoned! And there's only a few chapters left! Which is good because I have been working on this for well over a year! Also, I want to thank everyone who has reviewed this story so far; it what keeps me writing! (Also, apparently the only thing that I'm more spotty about than updating is responding to reviews. I may be a bad person.) Anyway, wishing all of you guys a very Happy New Year!


	14. Chapter 14

_Chapter 14_

People tended to be freer with their words if they thought that you weren't going to be around to repeat them. There are very few upsides to only being hours away from death, but Hermione was pleased that she managed to find at least one of them.

"I hope this works," said Ginny, sounding worried.

Neville was pacing around the room. "It has too. I don't think that I could live with myself if it doesn't…"

Hermione took little comfort with the fact that they seemed to be having second thoughts. After all, it wasn't their opinions that counted. If Granger had expressed such a sentiment, then she might have been heartened, but as it was Hermione knew that each hour that passed brought her closer to death. Theoretically. She had no intentions of actually dying.

"Can I have some water?" Hermione croaked out, her first words in over fifteen hours. Neville and Ginny startled like they had forgotten that she was there. It could have been worst because Neville had taken pity on her and had released the binding spell. And then Ginny had had enough foresight to let her use the washroom. So now, at the very least, only her legs were bound with a simple leg locker curse. Why they couldn't have done that from the beginning Hermione didn't know (though she highly suspected that it was a power play more than anything else) but as it stood she was considerably more comfortable.

"Uh, sure," said Neville, heading to the door. "I don't suppose you would like something to eat as well?"

"_Neville_," hissed Ginny, in a reprimanding tone.

To Hermione's relief Neville held his ground. "I don't think feeding Hermione a sandwich is going to endanger the whole operation."

Ginny remained tight-lipped as Neville left the room. "That boy is too soft-hearted," she said, and Hermione wasn't sure if she was being addressed or if Ginny was just thinking out loud.

Neville returned shortly afterward, bringing the promised food and drink. He handed the tray to Hermione, who wondered if she was playing right into their hands. After all, it was possible that the food was poisoned. But Hermione firmly pushed those thoughts out of her head and concluded that she was just being paranoid (though she took the time to discreetly check her food and water just in case—she was still embarrassed about how easily Snape was able to slip her truth serum.) Finding no odd smells or visible distortions she took a tiny bite of the sandwich and a sip of the water. And then, after no immediate ill effects, she consumed the rest in a pathetically short amount of time.

"I guess that's it then." Ginny let out a soft sigh. "There's no point in putting it off any longer."

"I suppose not," said Neville, his voice tight. "I suspect that you will think less of me for leaving, but there's no way that I can stay and help."

Hermione watched the exchange between the two of them with an odd fascination. She could see that Ginny was attempting to hold in her infamous hot temper, while Neville looked resolute. "Fine," snapped Ginny, "I am perfectly capable of doing this by myself."

"There's no reason for you to do it at all."

"Granger says…"

Neville interrupted. "Yes, I know what she says, but it's barbaric, when Polyjuice would work just as well. We don't need her at all." He tilted his head towards Hermione.

"It's been decided by the Order that this is what we'll do," said Ginny, almost daring him to defy her. But he didn't. Neville just turned on his heal and left.

Ginny turned her attention back to Hermione, which Hermione decidedly knew was not a good thing.

"What exactly is it that you're planning to do?" Hermione asked, though her brain had already whirred through the most likely possibilities and had come to several very unpleasant conclusions. Really, the mention of Polyjuice had been a dead giveaway, and she half suspected that's why Neville had said it. It wasn't much of a warning, but it was better than nothing.

"If you're going to pass for Granger there's a few difference that we're going to have to take care of."

That was not something that Hermione wanted to hear.

"Don't worry," said Ginny, as she raised her wand, "there's no reason for you to be awake for this. _Stupefy_." And then Hermione's world went red, and then black.

* * *

><p>Snape found him coming out of the dungeons. He was disguised, which was not surprising. However, Snape found it odd that he chose to hide himself in plain sight as a student, considering how much he disliked children. But he supposed that there must have been advantages, and that those advantages would outweigh any possible risks.<p>

"Tobias," he said, choosing a name that would let the other him know that he had been recognized. The child looked up at him, and if Snape had any doubts left, they were quashed in that moment. Those eyes could only ever belong to him.

"Yes, sir?" the child asked, eyes glinting.

"My office. Now." Snape headed there at a brisk pace, confident that the child would follow him.

When they arrived, Snape cast his usual privacy charms, before sitting in his chair. "What do you know?" he asked. He was no fan of volunteering information.

Neither was the other him, who just stared at him silently. Minutes passed. Normally, Snape was excellent at the waiting game, but he knew that they were pressed for time. Every second spent posturing was a second that he could be planning and plotting.

"Fine," he snapped, "I assume you are here for Miss Granger."

"I am."

"She believes that you're dead," he stated flatly. He suspected that someone would try to find the girl, but he was honestly surprised that it was he, himself who was sent to do it.

"I know."

"I surprised that you managed to find where in time and space she had gone."

The child ignored this. "Is she here? I imagine that she would like to return home as soon as possible."

"Yes, I imagine that she would. Unfortunately, there's a slight issue."

The child raised his eyebrows. The familiar gesture on an unfamiliar face was discomforting. "And what exactly is the issue."

Now, Snape was not exactly embarrassed by what had happened, but he was well aware that the present situation could have been prevented entirely if he only had better foresight. He should have never let Hermione get her hands on Miss Granger. But he had, and he had done nothing to remedy the situation. Yet. Still, he didn't like the thought that this alternate world version of him would judge him for the actions he had taken.

So he explained what had happened as succinctly as possible. The other him did not look impressed.

"And I assume you have a plan."

"I do."

* * *

><p>Severus Snape had no idea what to expect. He had suspected from Granger's notes that her Time-Turner would not work as it should. He even theorized that that instead of travelling back in time, Granger had travelled to alternative time stream.<p>

He felt very little joy when he had discovered that he was right. Leave it to Granger (brightest witch of her age, insufferable know-it-all) to travel to a place where The Dark Lord had won the war. He was further unsurprised when he discovered that she had managed to find herself in mortal danger.

"And I assume that you have a plan." It wasn't a question.

The other man looked at him, a sour expression on his face. "I do."

"I would like to hear the details."

"Is it your intention to help?"

Snape considered this. He had made a promise to Potter and had no intention of going against his word. He doubted he could leave Granger to her fate regardless. He must be growing soft in his old age—the very thought of which was displeased him greatly.

"It is," he said.

"Very well."

* * *

><p>Hermione fought her way back to consciousness. She opened her eyes to see nothing but a dark expanse of sky framed by rustling treetops. The stars above her were like little pinpricks of light and the moon was a small silver crescent. The air was chilly and she could feel the dampness of the grass seeping into her clothes.<p>

It took a moment for the pain to register. It was bearable, but just. Her face felt like it was being pricked with a thousand sharp needles. She tried to lift her hand up to touch her cheek, but was unsurprised when she was incapable of movement. It was probably for the best. She did not even want to consider what Ginny had done to her face. It was upsetting, but there was no time to dwell on it. She was still alive and she had to do her best to remain that way.

"I'm not sure the changing the plan is the wisest of ideas, Severus." The voice belonged to Granger. Hermione wished that she could turn her head see what was happening. She wanted to watch the two of them interact, suspecting that she could glean some insight to their relationship.

"Yet, it is the best course of action," Snape replied.

"But it is not what we discussed."

"It is too dangerous for you to control the girl. I am much more proficient with the Imperius Curse," he argued. "Plus, I will be free to move around the room at will. If you are there, you will be limited in your movements and risk the chance of discovery."

"Yes, but this is the most important part of the plan. I would like to ensure that it goes as expected. Or else, all of this would have been for nothing."

"Do you not trust me?" Snape's voice sounded dangerous.

"It's not about trust. You didn't object when we first established the plan!"

"I've done nothing but object!" he snapped. "I agreed to this plan because it's our last hope of salvaging any kind of future. But if you meant any of those words you said to me, if you've truly come to love me as you say you have, you will let me do this."

There a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on forever. Hermione could feel her heart pound in her chest at a frantic rhythm. She wondered if Snape meant those words, or if this was all part of the plan. When it came down to she believed that he wanted to help her, but was he really willing to betray the woman he loved and a chance of a life together to save her life?

"Okay," said Granger, her voice had softened. "I am entrusting you with the task of killing the False Minister."

"Hermione." The reverence in his tone was unmistakeable. Hermione listened as they embraced, and whispered fervent goodbyes.

"We will meet here when the deed is done," said Snape, "and then our responsibility to this nation is finished."

Granger didn't respond, but Hermione imagined that she gave Snape a curt nod in agreement. Then there was the loud _pop _of apparition followed by the sound of footsteps. A second later, Snape was leaning over her, his wand out. "Now, Miss Granger, it seems that you and I have a job to do."

And for the first time since Hermione had come into this blasted world, she was frightened.

* * *

><p>In the past, whenever Snape had to do something awful in the name of The Dark Lord, he had always cleared his mind and set his body on auto-pilot. If he had to think about his actions, he would inevitably hesitate. And hesitation was a dangerous mistake that he could not afford. It could expose his cover, his doubts and his hatred of the very man that he was supposed to worship. Hesitation was a death sentence.<p>

So on this night, when he found himself doing something morally repugnant, he cleared his mind and forged ahead. He could feel the guilt trying to ooze in pass his barricades, but he fought against it until it was less irritating than a buzzing fly.

He walked confidently. Anyone looking at him would never think that he was moments away from sneaking an assassin into the Ministry's Halloween celebration, but that was, of course, exactly was he was doing.

When he came to the entrance, he nodded sharply at the guard, extending his invitation.

"Good to see you Headmaster," said the man, who then smiled apologetically, "I just have to cast a few security charms before you're allowed to enter."

Snape inclined his head in agreement. He wasn't too worried. It was extremely unlikely that the man would be able to detect the girl under Potter's invisibility cloak. Indeed, seconds later he was being ushered through.

One inside, he surveyed the area and found a place near the podium where the girl could stand and wait with little likelihood of being bumped into. He knew that the Minister normally gave a speech in the first half-hour of the party. He had ordered the girl to strike then. He wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

He spotted Draco Malfoy chatting with Kinsley Shacklebolt. He was surprised that Shacklebolt was able to get back into the good graces of the Ministry of Magic considering that he had fought against The Dark Lord during the Battle of Hogwarts. But, if everything went according to plan, by the end of the night Shacklebolt would be in a prime position to take over the Ministership. Snape was sure that once Shacklebolt killed the leader of the resistance any doubts about his loyalty would be quelled, and then he could become Minister for Magic and hopefully keep enough support to slowly undo the harmful changes that Henry Greengrass had implemented.

It was a clever plan that Hermione Granger had devised. Win the war by losing it. Once Shacklebolt was in power, he could then promote others who were less loyal to ideas of blood purity to higher positions and eventually maybe the wounds that The Dark Lord had inflicted upon British Wizarding Society would start to heal. It would take time, but it had more of a chance of succeeding than the Guerrilla warfare the Order had been fighting for the last seven years. Unfortunately, such a plan required a sacrifice, but Snape chose not to dwell on that idea.

He mingled for a bit, making small talk with those he recognized, and with others that he didn't. It was easy enough to spout platitudes, and nobody seemed to be suspicious of him or suspect that he was hiding something.

Shortly after, Henry Greengrass took to the stage. "Good Evening my fellow Witches and Wizards. First I would like to thank you all for attending the Seventh Annual Halloween Ball in honour of our Dark Lord." The man continued to talk, and Snape continued to ignore the drivel spouting from his mouth. When the speech was winding down, Snape angled his body towards the place when the girl was standing patiently, made (what he assumed must have been eye contact), and ordered "_Now_."

The girl whipped off the invisibility cloak, and before anyone could register her presence, she shouted "_Avada Kedavra_!" Which was why the last expression on Henry Greengrass' face was one of shock. And then all chaos broke out. Snape moved quickly, picking up the cloak and hiding himself underneath. Then he watched in relative safety as the Shacklebolt managed to fell the girl. There was a roar of victory through the crowd as her limp body was levitated upwards.

Snape couldn't look away. He was sure that those brown lifeless eyes would haunt him for the rest of his life.


	15. Chapter 15

_Chapter 15_

_"Now, Miss Granger, it seems that you and I have a job to do."_

_And for the first time since Hermione had come into this blasted world, she was frightened. _

Luckily, she wasn't one to let a little thing like fear stop her. The moment that Snape undid the binding spell, Hermione was on her feet. She assessed the situation quickly, and noted that while Snape was his normally guarded self, he was not as weary as he should be.

Which was why she felt comfortable jabbing him in the gut with her fist. She knew that it likely caused very little pain, but that wasn't the point. She just needed him distracted. Snape stumbled back. The look of surprise on his face was so different, and out of place, that had the situation not been nearly so serious, Hermione would have laughed.

"_Expelliarmus_," she shouted, hoping, praying that her magic would work. Relief bloomed, as Snape's wand flew from his hand. Hermione scrambled forward and managed to catch it, her fingers curling around the dark wood. They stood there then, facing each other, neither one of them moving. Hermione felt her heart beating in her chest at an uncomfortable pace. Her hands were shaking. She hoped that Snape wouldn't notice, but she knew that his sharp eyes were unlikely to miss it.

"You asked me to trust you," said Hermione, "and I have. I hope that trust hasn't been misplaced."

"It has not been, Miss Granger," replied Snape. "I know that from your perspective my actions have been… _lacking_, but I assure you, that I have every intention of sending you home safely."

"Safe is relative, Snape." Hermione lifted her hand to her cheek, her fingers running over her new scars. They felt large and ugly and heavy on her face.

Snape averted his eyes. "I sincerely apologize. In order for this plan to work, we needed to wait until the last possible moment." He brought his gaze back to hers. "I have several potions that will reduce the scaring, if not remove it altogether."

"Yes," said Hermione, unable and unwilling to hold her tongue at that moment. "Because that what concerns me. The scars. Not the thought of one of my best friends slicing my face open."

His face darkened, but he did not offer a retort.

"I assume you have a plan?" Hermione asked, keeping his wand pointed at him.

"I do."

"And what exactly is it?"

"I have discovered a way to send you home."

Hermione's gut clenched at the thought of going home. Her mind worked at a frenetic pace. Was it possible? Could Snape actually have found a way to send her back to her own timeline? There was always the possibility that he was lying in order for her to do as he wanted. "Do you have any proof?"

"I do," said Snape, producing another wand from his sleeve. A slew of offensive spells came to Hermione's mind, but they proved unnecessary. Without any hesitation at all, Snape gently tossed her the wand.

It took just a second for Hermione to recognize the implications of the object she was now holding (and the only reason it took that long was because the thought of it was so impossible that she had refused to believe it). It was her wand, the one that she had left behind in her own timeline. Somehow Snape had managed to get a hold of it. "How?" It was the only thing she could think of to say.

"Your friends have been looking for you." The reply was too brief and too cryptic for Hermione to make any strong conclusions, but she couldn't stop the surge of hope that swelled within her.

"However," said Snape, "before I can send you home, I will need your assistance for one last task. I hope that you will be accommodating."

She cocked her head to the side. "What exactly is it you need me to do?"

* * *

><p>"If you don't stop pacing, I'll have no choice but to hex you."<p>

Harry continued his steps undeterred. "You've said that twice already, and you haven't yet."

"I know," said Draco, his tone bored, "but I mean it this time."

"It's been hours. How can it possibly take so much time?"

"It's fine. Maybe, Snape is taking the time to explore a whole new world."

"You know that isn't likely," said Harry. Worry had settled in his gut like a stone. He felt so useless, not knowing what was happening, and with no way to help. "Something must have happened."

Draco didn't respond, and Harry's frustration (and the speed of his pacing) continued to grow. It was only moments later that Harry found himself falling face first to the floor, his legs locked together.

"Malfoy! _Release me now!" _Harry snarled, as he attempted to sit up.

"I don't why you're so angry, Potter," said Draco, as released the spell, "I warned you. Now stop being a prat and just sit the fuck down."

"Fine," said Harry, plopping himself next to Draco. And that's when Harry began to tap his foot nervously.

_Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. _

Draco gritted his teeth and raised his wand. "Potter, I'll give you one warning, after that what happens to your foot is not my responsibility."

* * *

><p>"She agreed?"<p>

"Yes, she did," Snape said, answering his doppelganger. "Convincing her was straightforward."

"I assumed you must have lied to her then."

"I would rather think of it as a small kindness rather than a lie." Snape closed his eyes wondering at all the events of his life had brought him to this moment.

His other-self snorted. "You are free to think of it however you please."

Snape ignored the comment, and turned back to the task at hand. Before him lay everything he needed in order to end the war. There was the vial of Polyjuice Potion his double had brought from the alternate timeline; next to it was a lock of Miss Granger's hair; and folded neatly at the end of the table, the clothes that Miss Granger had been wearing.

"And did you read through the notes that I left you?" he asked, as he added the hair to the potion.

"I have."

"And have you memorized it? It is important that no one suspect that you are not the real me." Snape waved his wand over the potion, and watched as it turned a lovely royal blue.

"I am confident that I will manage to act like our normal surly self."

"Good." Snape lifted the potion to his lips and drank it down. He could feel himself changing and his body shrinking. The skin on his face tightened and tingled, growing in ridges over his nose to his mouth. When he was finished transforming, he quickly changed into Miss Granger's clothes.

"Well," he said when he was ready. "It's almost time."

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

He wasn't sure. That's not to say he was frightened of death. He wasn't. He wanted to live, and (for once) had things to live for. If there had been any other choice to make he would have made it.

But there was no other choice. "And what shall I do instead?"

His doubled frowned. "You could run and hide in this world. Or even find a way to another."

A flash of fury ripped him. "I AM NOT A COWARD!"

"No," he said, meeting his gaze, "you're not."

And with that, his anger evaporated. He found his calm, and took a moment to gather all the best parts of himself. He closed his eyes and thought of a headstone that he last seen nearly seven years ago.

It had been windy and rainy and miserable. And he had sat on the muddy ground as water ran over his face and down his back. He had lifted his hand and laid it flat against the smooth white stone. Even now, years later, he could remember how brightly it shone in the darkness.

_The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death._

He just hoped that it was true.

"I'm ready."

* * *

><p>Hermione did as she was instructed and waited by a large White Willow in the Forbidden Forest. She felt uneasy (though Snape had claimed that it was perfectly safe and protected). Snape had said that he would return, but he did not give an exact time, and each moment he was away caused her anxiety to grow.<p>

The wind whistled through the trees and Hermione wrapped her oversized cloak tighter around herself. Snape had asked for her clothes, and had provided her with what looked to be his own garments. Hermione knew that he was planning something. (She did after all notice that he had stolen a snippet of her hair, even though he must have thought that he was being ever so sneaky about the entire thing.) But she had stayed silent.

She knew it was a mistake the moment she didn't speak up. But there seemed like few options. She wondered if Snape was going to continue on with the plan with another stand in. The thought that someone would die for her freedom, made her feel ill and oddly guilty.

It was irrational. This was not her plan, her world, nor her doing. There was nothing to feel guilty about. Still, remorse coursed through her until she could barely handle it anymore and took to identifying nearby plant-life just to distract herself.

"Miss Granger." The voice broke her from her distractions. She looked up to see Snape walking toward her at a brisk pace. As he walked past her he grabbed her hand, and he half-dragged her along with him. He opened a secret passage in the White Willow and moments later they emerged within the Hogwarts dungeon. Hermione tried to ask what was going on, but he shushed her.

They entered the Potions classroom, and Snape fished the Time-Turner from his robes. "We have to hurry. It's almost midnight, and we have a larger chance of success if we do this while it is still Halloween."

Hermione opened her mouth to ask why, but stopped short of making any sound. He released her hand, and his arm snaked around her waist. She let out a gasp of surprise, but either Snape didn't hear or choose to ignore it. It occurred to her then that he was choosing to come with her. To a new world, where maybe (just maybe), he could finally find some peace. The thought warmed her, and she felt a spark of something that she still wasn't quiet able to admit.

Snape took the Time-Tuner and spun it. His arms tightened around her as the world dissolved, and for a moment it felt like they were the only two people that existed in the universe. The world jolted, and Hermione swayed on her feet. She looked up, to see that Snape looked paler than normal.

And that's when she noticed the scar.

There was no reason that he should have a scar. The implications of that fact hit her right in the gut, and she doubled over as though she physically hurt.

"Miss Granger, are you okay?" Snape said, as he leaned down, still holding her.

"Hermione!" She looked up startled at Harry's voice. He wore an expression of shock, probably due to the scars on her face.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked gently.

"I'm fine, Harry," she said as the edges her vision blurred. "What in the world happened to your foot?"

Darkness claimed her before she could hear the answer.


	16. Chapter 16

_Chapter 16_

She was still waiting as the sun began to peak over the treetops. _Where was he? _Severus was late and she was starting to worry. She knew that there were plenty of mundane and harmless reasons that could have caused him delay. She could think of a dozen without really trying. Still, there was a feeling that she couldn't shake. A feeling of sinking, of drowning, of being underwater and unable to claw her way to the surface.

If she believed in signs and premonitions, the ravens flying overhead would add to her worries. But she didn't believe in omens and portents and any of that nonsense. Instead, to calm herself, she focused on those things she knew to be true. At approximately nine thirty last night, one Hermione Granger had managed to sneak into the Ministry's Halloween Celebration, and kill Henry Greengrass. She, in turn, was killed by Kingsley Shacklebolt. By midnight, Shacklebolt had been declared the interim Minister and was expected to take over the position permanently (after an appropriate amount of time had passed, of course.)

The plan had worked, and, according to her sources, no one suspected that she was still alive. Moreover, no one seemed to suspect Severus' involvement. Everything had gone as well as it could have gone. Now, all she and Severus had to do was disappear. They would start a life together far from here, far from their pasts. And maybe (just maybe) they could finally find some peace.

A shrill cry sent a shiver up her spine. She looked up to see the silhouette of an owl in the distance. It flew towards her, circling several times before landing. She studied it for a moment, as it looked at her with its large brown eyes. Attached to its leg was a piece of parchment. The owl hooted softly as she bent down to retrieve the missive.

"I'm sorry," she said, as she scratched its head. "I wasn't expecting you so I don't have any treats." Her hands were shaking as she opened the parchment. She knew that it must be from Severus. No one else knew that she was here. Heck, there were only six people in the entire world who even knew that she was alive.

The words on the parchment were scrambled, coded with magic. She quickly undid the spell, and watched as Severus' spidery writing filled the page.

_Hermione,_

_I love you and I hope that you never doubt that fact. _

_You may be wondering why I am telling you in a note when I have never said in person. The fact is I plan to take Miss Granger's place tonight. I know that this will upset you, but I ask you to understand. I cannot let her die. She is innocent in all of this. _

_You may feel angry and hurt, but I advise you not to dwell on it. There is no use in blaming Miss Granger, which I suspect would be your first instinct. This is my decision, and she is unaware of what I plan to do. Nevertheless, I feel that I should tell you that she is gone; I have found a way to send her home and you will never find her. The Time-Turner that brought her to this world is destroyed and there are no others like it._

_I love you. I wish I had told you that last night. I wanted too, but I was afraid my words would give my plan away. I will not say any nonsense about how I am doing this for you. I know that you will never see it this way. I will take comfort from the fact that your soul will remain intact and that you are now free to leave Britain. There is nothing tying you to this place anymore, and it is too risky to stay. There is an entire world out there waiting for you. _

_You probably think that I am selfish, that I did this without considering your feelings. And that is true. I have always been a selfish man, and facing death does not change this. You are one of the strongest people I know, and I know that you will heal and find happiness. I am sure of it. _

_Hermione, please forgive me. _

_Love,_

_Severus T. Snape_

She didn't believe it. She couldn't believe it. Though everything in the letter was true, she knew this without a doubt. Why had he done it? To save the life of a girl he hardly knew? To save her from herself, like he claimed? She didn't know.

Then the sobs came. Slowly at first, and then faster until she was crying as hard as she had ever cried. Her heart was breaking, and there was nothing that she could do to stop it.

* * *

><p>"I still hate you for that," said Harry, as he waited outside the hospital room.<p>

Draco gave him a withering look. "I think that you should be focused on more important things and not dwelling on what I may or may not have done to your foot."

"You're just lucky that they were able to turn it back into a foot, regrow the proper bones, and remove the scales."

"I'm just suggesting that maybe Granger should come first…"

"I just can't…" Harry's voice broke. "I can't think about it yet. About what happened to her." Snape had filled in a few details, but there were still too many unanswered questions. She had looked so utterly broken, that the joy of bringing her home had been overshadowed by the fact that she had been hurt. Hurt in ways that Harry did not want to consider.

He knew that Hermione would survive. She was a fighter. But the worry and guilt still ate at him.

"Potter?"

"Yes, Malfoy?"

"If you don't stop pulling your hand through your hair, you're going to lose it."

* * *

><p>Hermione awoke in an unfamiliar, darkened room. Her body flooded with panic and an overpowering urge to escape. She jolted upwards, clambering to her feet in a tangle of blankets.<p>

"Hermione?" She turned sharply in the direction of the voice. Even in the dim light she could make out Harry's distinct form.

"Harry," she gasped out, taking a shaky step toward him. Harry hurried over towards her, catching her as her body sagged.

"Careful," he said, as he guided her back to bed.

"Where am I?"

"St. Mungo's. You've been unconscious for nineteen hours."

She tried to process this information, but her brain felt too muddled. She latched on the one thing that she knew to be true. "I'm _home_."

"Yes, Hermione, you're home."

Relief exploded through her. She was home. Harry was alive, Ron loved her, and Ginny (presumably) wasn't plotting her demise. Everything was as it should be. Except...

"Snape," she said, "I saw Snape. _Our Snape_."

Harry couldn't meet her eyes. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you. He didn't want anyone to know that he survived the war."

Snape was alive. _Alive_. And he had risked himself to rescue her. Why? How? "I have so many questions."

"I know, but now's not the time. Your Healer will want to examine you again soon. Plus, I need to tell Ron and your parents that you're awake."

She wanted to argue, but Harry was already standing up to leave. "Okay, but we'll talk later."

* * *

><p>"According to Potter, Granger woke up last night."<p>

"The matter doesn't concern me anymore, Draco," said Snape, as he poured himself another drink of Ogden's finest.

"I figured you just want to know that all that hard work you put into saving her life paid off."

"Indeed." Snape took a deep drink of whiskey, enjoying the way it burned as it slid down his throat.

Draco gave a huff of annoyance. "I find it hard to believe that you aren't interested at all."

Snape shrugged. "Believe what you want."

"Something happened."

"Lots of things happened!" Snape snapped. He couldn't stand the way Draco was looking at him. "_Leave_."

"Fine," said Draco tersely. He slammed the door behind him, causing the entire cottage to shake. Snape felt nothing but relief. He knew that Draco meant well, but Snape craved solitude. The world felt too large and too small all at once. Pressing in at him from all sides, yet utterly empty and directionless.

He just needed some time, he reasoned. Time, and another glass of whiskey.

* * *

><p>The hours she had spent at St. Mungo's passed in a blur. There were people everywhere. And for Hermione, the entire thing was exhausting and overwhelming.<p>

Hermione remembered it in snapshots. Her mother bursting into tears when she had seen the scars on Hermione's face, and again when the Healer said that they could be fixed. Ron squeezing her hand, and kissing her cheek. Ginny, now visibly pregnant, giving her a hug. Harry running a reporter out of her hospital room. Kingsley paying a visit, and apologizing profusely.

It was too much. All too much. They all wanted to know what had happened, and yet she found that she couldn't explain. More than that, she didn't want to. Not yet. She gave a brief report to Kingsley, but refused to answer any in depth questions. And nobody pushed her. When Kingsley had asked about her Time-Turner Harry had promptly and unceremoniously escorted from him from the room.

It was just after noon, when she found out that she was being released.

"Finally, we can get you home where you belong," said had Ron.

"Actually Ron, I was thinking about staying with my parents for a bit." She had been afraid that he would react badly, but Ron took the news in stride.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea. Less pressure from reporters and the Ministry."

And this explained, how, not even an hour later, she found herself standing in her childhood bedroom. This, however, did not explain why one Draco Malfoy was standing there as well.

"I really don't understand why you're here Malfoy," she said, glaring at him as she unpacked her clothes.

He shrugged. "Harry told me that you were staying at your parents. I did a bit of digging and found out where they lived."

"You mean Harry told you."

He looked annoyed. "Yes, Harry told me."

"So, why are you here?"

"Severus won't talk to me."

Now, that gave her pause. "You're point?" The glint in Draco's eyes told her that her attempt at a laissez-faire attitude was a failure.

"He lives in a small cottage, right on the outskirts of Appleby. I can bring you there if you like."

She hesitated. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"He's not himself, Granger. He hasn't been this unstable since the war ended."

"And, what? You think that I can help?" The entire situation was absurd.

"Would I be here otherwise?"

Hermione knew she needed time to think through what Draco had asked her to do. Snape probably did not want to see her, and she could bet that he wouldn't accept her help even if she offered. Hell, she was unsure that she could help him at all. She wasn't exactly emotionally stable herself, and physically she felt drained.

But she had too many unanswered questions, and Snape could provide some answers. "Okay," she said, chewing her bottom lip. "I'll do what I can."

* * *

><p>Snape was less than pleased when, not even an hour later, there was a knock at the door. There were only two people in the world who knew where he lived, and Draco had just left.<p>

"_Fucking Potter_," he muttered, as he headed for the door. He had tried to ignore it, but the knocking had gotten louder and more persistent.

"What do you _want_?" he roared, as he flung open the door. But it wasn't Potter. No, of course it wasn't. It was _her._

Hermione Granger was standing on his doorstep like she had every right to be there. "I want to talk," she said simply. And Snape (who would later credit his actions to one to many glasses of firewhiskey) did the unthinkable. He stepped aside, and let her in.


End file.
